


Shattered

by Skyshadow54



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime, Transformers: Shattered Glass
Genre: Action/Adventure, Assassination Attempt(s), Chaos, Character Death, F/M, Families split by differing factions, Family Drama, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Minor Violence, Mystery, Shattered Glass, Siblings, There's fluff mixed in I promise, War, general mayhem
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:21:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 42,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25551979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyshadow54/pseuds/Skyshadow54
Summary: Two sides, one world, just like usual. However, everything in this universe is flipped. Those who are normally good are evil, those who are normally villains are heroes. TFP Shattered Glass with G1 influence.
Relationships: Ironshadow/Carnation, Skywarp/Skyshadow(former), Starscream/Slipstream, Sunstreaker/Skyshadow
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter One

“Where’s my intelligence officer?” the Autobot leader bellowed angrily.

Hesitating, his two bodyguards shared a glance.

The white and black one, the more favoured of the twins, was the one who dared to speak.

“Which one, Sir?”

The self-declared Prime tapped his clawed digits on the arm of his throne. “Who do you think? The older one!”

Jazz opened his mouth again to answer, but the purple and black mech beat him to it.

“Actually,” the leader said with a growl, “Get them both in here now!”

The white and black coloured bodyguard bowed low, smirking as he did. “Yes, my liege.”

On the other side of the door, the red and white twin sent a glare toward him.

Jazz pretended not to notice, turning and sauntering out of the throne room.

_“Sorry, Rico,”_ he sent through their bond. _“If ya wanna get the boss’ favour, ya gotta be quicker than that.”_

/

Soon after, Jazz returned with one of the intel officers following behind him.

The bodyguard entered the room, neatly bowed, then stepped back to his post beside the door.

Ricochet glanced at the solo Autobot that had followed his twin, then smirked. _“He said get both, didn’t he?”_ he sent through their bond.

_“Couldn’t find the other one. But this one should know where he is.”_ Jazz replied sullenly.

Optimus Prime ignored what seemed to be a silent conversation between his two bodyguards. Instead, he leveled his dark glare upon the mecha that had been brought before him.

The young mech knelt on one knee and bowed, keeping his helm lowered as he waited.

“Where is your useless brother?” demanded the Prime. “Get up and tell me!”

The purple intelligence officer rose quickly and steadily to his pedes.

“He’s out,” came the quiet reply. “He should return shortly.”

Optimus growled. “He had better be. Another one of his unauthorized missions or a race?”

“A mission, Sir.”

“Fine. At least he’s doing something somewhat useful,” the purple and black warlord snapped.

Continuing, he leaned forward in his seat. “Ratchet has located moving energon. I want you to investigate what the Decepticons are up to. Don’t let them see you.”

“Yes, Sir. They won’t know I am there. I will leave immediately,” replied the purple mech swiftly.

“Very well. You had better not fail me. You seekers and special operatives have been lacking as far as performance lately. You are supposed to be my elite team. Not some group of pathetic petrorabbits that get too scared when the Decepticons show up.

“Smokescreen and Ratchet will brief you. Now go!”

The mech dipped his helm again and turned to leave. “Yes, my Lord.”

As he strode swiftly out of the throne room, the Prime yelled after him.

“And take your idiot brother with you!”

After the purple mech had disappeared, Optimus Prime settled back into his throne.

“For so called intelligence, they’re not very bright,” he muttered.

By the doors, his twin bodyguards snickered in response.

/

Two pairs of optics watched the Decepticons from the nearby cliffside. The mecha below were completely unaware they were being watched, going about their business without the knowledge of what was about to happen.

Their business of which, was mining energon from a large cave they’d cut into the rocky cliffside.

What was about to happen, well, not even the two silent observers were totally aware as they hid among the trees.

Mostly silent observers.

“So, how many was our last count?” the younger of the two asked, helm propped up by his hands as he laid on his tank on the ground.

The older one glanced down to the side, glaring at him.

He had asked that question so many times already.

And had been given almost the same answer.

“Ten,” hissed the older one in a whisper. He shuffled slightly, adjusting his crouched position. “Same as the last five times you asked.”

“Hmm, if I ask five more times it will be once for each Decepticon,” mused the younger, twitching his doorwings in what the other guessed was amusement.

There was a silence, which the older was grateful for.

Unfortunately for him, it did not last.

“An’ ya missed one,” said the younger one quietly.

The older mecha turned his helm back to his annoying partner. “What? Where?”

Narrowing his optics, the smaller mecha lifted a hand, pointing a digit towards the opposite side of the gorge.

Following the other’s line of sight and gesture, the older one searched for the ‘Con he’d missed.

On the other side of the gorge, on the opposite cliff, there was a large number of trees. Similar to this side, it would provide more than adequate cover for a few small to medium sized Cybertronians.

Scanning the tree line, the older brother searched for what had caught his little brother’s optic.

Or rather, who.

Ignoring the snickering from beside him, he continued looking. If it weren’t for the situation, and the mecha beside him, he would think that it was a joke.

However, his younger brother, though he might be a trickster at times, wouldn’t make up imaginary enemies to distract him.

“Still haven’t spotted-“ the younger brother began to ask.

“Shut up,” growled the older, not moving his gaze from the opposite side.

“Good thing ya brought me along, big brother. Ya might not have seen the big brute if not.”

“The-Prime-commanded-that-you-accompany-me. You-know-what-would-have-happened-if-you-refused. And-that’s-the-only-reason-you’re-here-kid.”

The younger mech rolled his optics. “Yeah. Right. Whatever ya say, big brother. Fact is- “

“Do-you-ever-shut-up?”

“More-than-you.”

Practically feeling the smirk coming off his brother, the older one looked harder.

_“How can he see the Decepticon? I see nothing!”_

As if knowing his internal question, the younger reached up to the side of his helm and tapped near his audio receptor. The older watched as a partially translucent visor spanned his brother’s faceplate, turning red as he tapped the spot again.

Letting out a huff, he turned away, back to the cliffside. “That’s cheating and you know it, kid.”

His companion smirked, shaking his helm slightly. “I-actually-did-see-him-before. I-just-want-to-check-if-there’s-any-more-in-the-mine-itself.”

“Right,” came the response, tone suggesting he may or may not believe his younger brother’s claims.

He watched as he rose to a crouch beside him, keeping watch on the Decepticons out of the corner of his optic.

The younger brother scanned the ground around them slowly, turning around as he did.

“Well?” asked the older impatiently.

“Same number as you counted go in.”

“See-we-don’t-need-your-fancy-visor-and-it’s-heat-sensor-function.”

With a quick tap to the side of his helm, the visor dissipated, leaving the red optics staring at his brother completely visible. The smirk playing on his faceplate never changed.

“You’re-just-jealous-I-got-cooler-stuff-than-you.”

“You-mean-stole. And-I-am-not.”

“Really? I don’t believe you. And it wasn’t stealing if it was my share.”

Finally spotting the Decepticon, the older sibling ignored his brother. “I see him.”

Rolling his optics, the other mecha gave a small, exasperated sigh. “Took ya long ‘nough. Though, he is really quite hidden. Blends in.”

“That’s Breakdown, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. Don’t worry, the big lug hasn’t seen us. Yet.”

“Good.”

“So, mission leader. What now? Call for backup or pickup?”

“Weren’t you listening when we were being briefed?”

“Some. But the old rust bucket was going on and on and I got bored. And stuff is distracting.”

“Seriously? He didn’t even talk that long.”

“Yeah, but when he’s talking, everything is distracting.”

“You’re distracting.”

“Why thank you! That’s kind of why they use me to make distractions and stuff on the battlefield. Cause I’m good at what I do,” the younger brother said in a mock ecstatic whisper.

“You sure are good at never shutting up.”

“Says the guy who talks three times as much as me.”

“I do not.”

The younger of the two simply gave him a look to say, _“Really?”_

Which the older one ignored.

“I will call base.”

“For?”

The older rolled his optics and lifted his hand to his audio.

“Autobot Outpost Omega One. This is Blurr. We have a visual on all Decepticon activity currently in the area and are requesting further instructions.”

“So formal,” muttered the younger brother as he rolled his optics.

Blurr listened quietly as whoever bothered to pick up the comm talked.

“Yes, we have a helm count. No, just one warrior, ten troopers,” he answered.

His younger companion flopped back onto the grass with a dramatic sigh. Turning over on his back, careful of his sensitive doorwings, he closed his optics.

Blurr frowned down at him, but replied to the mech on the other side of the comm as normal. “Yes, Sir. Blurr out.”

After cutting the connection, the older speedster reached down to swat his younger brother in the helm. Before his hand could get within a foot of his face, the younger mecha’s hand shot up and grabbed him by the wrist.

Tugging his servo against the vicelike grip, Blurr scowled.

“Steeldust,” he hissed. “Let go.”

Steeldust, who hadn’t bothered to open his optics when he’d caught Blurr, did as he was told. Putting his hand back behind his helm, he replied curtly, “Don’t want your servo dented, don’t touch my helm.”

“How did you even know what I was going to do?” snapped Blurr, rubbing his wrist.

The younger brother smirked, cracking one ruby optic open to look at him. Holding up a hand, he extended two digits.

“One, yer noisy when ya move. Two, yer predictable.”

With a glare, Blurr swatted the offending hand away. “Am not. And what is with that accent?”

Opening his optics fully, Steeldust arched an optic ridge. “Whaddya-mean? Ma-accent-comes-wit’-me. Born-an’-raised-in-Polyhex- ‘member? Same-as-you.”

The older brother rolled his optics. “I know that. You tend to slip into it on occasion but not usually. Why now?”

With a quick, fluid motion, Steeldust rolled to his pedes. Shooting a glare over his shoulder at his brother, he snapped a reply.

“Ya-know-what-those-occasions-are. Don’t-pretend-like-ya-don’t-know-why-Ah-pick-it-up- ‘gain.”

Blurr was silent, staring back up at his younger brother. He did know why his brother’s accent slipped in and out.

He himself never had one. Their carrier however, had been from Polyhex. While both brothers had taken more after their sire who had been from Iacon, Steeldust had at some point in his sparklinghood, picked up some of their carrier’s accent.

But Blurr knew he never used it. Not unless-

“What-did-our-boss-say?” interrogated Steeldust, jerking Blurr from his thoughts.

Regaining focus, the older brother immediately stood. He began walking deeper into the trees, talking quietly over his shoulder as he did.

“We go in.”

As his younger brother heard this, his optics narrowed. His doorwings twitched in excitement. “Spy or destroy?”

Blurr chuckled under his breath. “Aren’t those two things one in the same?”

Jogging several paces forward to catch up, Steeldust fell in step with his taller brother’s long strides.

He shrugged as he walked. “Sometimes. But you know what I meant.”

Blurr sent him a knowing, wicked smile.

“Of course.”

Returning the grin, his brother rolled his optics again. “So. Which is it? Or have ya not figured it out yet?”

“First, we spy-“ Blurr began, looking to his little brother expectantly.

Steeldust’s face split into a sinister grin, one even more frightful on a faceplate so young as his.

He finished Blurr’s statement in a hiss as they disappeared completely amongst the trees.

“Then, they die.”

///

“They’ve returned, Sir,” Ricochet said with a scowl.

The bodyguards had received a comm from the Autobot manning the groundbridge. They both knew that the pair would be heading to the throne room to report.

Ricochet and the younger of the two speedsters did not get along.

“Very good,” sneered the Prime, settling back into his throne. “Let them in once they arrive. We will see what they have to say.”

Both Jazz and Ricochet knew what the Prime would do if they returned with nothing.

Two sets of swift, near silent pedesteps approached.

Following Jazz’s lead, Ricochet opened his side of the set of doors.

It was pointless to drag things out by waiting for the mecha to knock when they already knew who was coming and the Prime had already ordered them in.

The elder brother strode in, nodding to the two bodyguards. He then dropped to one knee; helm bowed respectfully.

The younger one followed momentarily, sending an icy glare at Ricochet before copying his sibling.

“Rise,” growled the Prime, gesturing with his hand.

After they had obeyed, he took a moment to look them over.

Blurr’s expression was blank, not betraying how the mission went. His frame was mostly clean, with only a few splattering of energon that the warlord knew didn’t belong to him. He stood at attention in perfect form.

Steeldust on the other hand, was a totally different case. He stood relaxed, with one pede to the side and servos crossed. A devious smirk played on his faceplates while his optics shone with an off glint. His frame was half his normal red paintjob, half blue with the energon of his enemies.

The Prime grinned down at them, leaning forward.

“Blurr, I assume from your appearances, particularly your brother’s, that the mission went well?”

The older brother nodded once. “Yes, Sir. We gathered what data was to be found, then took the mine.”

“Bulkhead and a few others are transporting the energon as we speak,” added Steeldust casually, meeting the warlord’s gaze evenly. “No survivors except for one that got away.”

Both flinched when the Prime pounded a fist on his throne.

“Why did you let him get away?” he bellowed.

“He was sent a groundbridge,” replied Blurr hesitantly. “We-could-not-follow.”

“Sufficiently-suffering-as-we-sent-him-packing-though,” Steeldust added quickly, stepping in front of his brother. “All-the-miners-and-other-guards-are-dead.”

Blurr resumed speaking. “We-gave-Ratchet-the-collected-data-there-may-be-locations-of- “

“SILENCE!” roared the Prime. “Stop your chattering! If it weren’t for the fact that you two are somewhat useful, I’d throw you in the smelter simply for your annoying babble!”

“But, Lord Prime,” Steeldust said indignantly. “You asked- Mmph!”

Blurr clapped a hand over his brother’s mouth quickly, before he could say anything else.

“Silence!” yelled the warlord. “Since you dare backtalk me, Steeldust, you will be visiting your box for a few days. See if you are so impertinent then.”

With a hand motion, the Prime beckoned the bodyguards to come forward. “Take him.”

Ricochet reached forward to take Steeldust’s servo, but stepped back when the youngling deployed the blade in his foreservo that extended from near his wrist all the way past his shoulder.

“Touch-me-and-I’ll-unzip-you,” Steeldust snarled, eyeing the red and white mech closely. “Jazz-can-take-me-but-not-you.”

“Jazz!” the Prime bellowed. “Take this brat to where he belongs. Give him an extra day for the threat. And you, Ricochet. Do not vex him further.”

“Yes, Lord Prime,” the twins said in unison. Jazz took a hold of Steeldust, who had put away his blade, and shoved him forward.

Ricochet followed, glaring steadily at the youngling. _“As soon as we’re out o’ hearing range, the brat is gonna get kicked.”_

Once Blurr and the Prime were alone, the Prime spoke again.

“It would be wise if you gained better control over your brother,” he said smoothly. “It would be best if he learned to keep his thoughts to himself.”

Blurr bowed his helm. He knew what would happen if Steeldust couldn’t hold his glossa. “Yes, Sir.”

“I will have Prowl debrief you. Now get out.”

The seeker bowed once more, then turned and left.

/

“I’ll-kill-you-Ricochet! I-swear-it!”

Ricochet smirked at the mechling on the other side of the door through the small, barred window.

“Calm down, won’t ya?” he said smoothly. “Wouldn’t wanna say somethin’ ya regret.”

He moved back several steps as a red blur hit the door violently and bounced off.

“Ha. Nice try.”

“Shut up,” snarled Steeldust, returning to the window to glare through it. “Or _you’ll_ regret it.”

“Try it,” returned Ricochet, baring his sharp denta.

Jazz intervened then, putting a hand up. “Rico, stop. Ya’ll only rile him up more.”

“That’s the point.”

The brother’s glared at each other for several kliks.

“Hit ‘em for me, won’t ya, Jazz,” snarled Steeldust, gripping the bars tightly.

“No, behave yourself and maybe ya can do it herself next time,” Jazz replied, turning his attention to the mechling. “When ‘re ya gonna learn ta keep yer mouth shut.”

“I-can’t,” snarled Steeldust, baring his denta. “Ya-know-I-can’t.”

“Learn,” replied Jazz, turning and walking away. “Or yer gonna get yer self or yer brother killed one day.”

Ricochet sent one last dirty look towards Steeldust, then followed Jazz. Shortly, Steeldust heard the slam of the brig door and he was alone.

It was quiet. Too quiet.

Steeldust didn’t care about the low amount of light. He didn’t mind the dark one bit. He’d been raised knowing the cover of darkness was his friend.

It was the silence and small cell that bothered him.

Sitting down in the corner, he pulled out a knife, scraping the wall with the blade.

He hated the screeching noise it made. But he hated the dead silence worse.

With the cameras, higher ranks could keep an optic on him. To him, it seemed like the more noise he made down here, the longer they made him stay.

They didn’t seem to care as much if it wasn’t his mouth making those noises.

So, scrape, scrape went the knife. Tap, tap went his pedes and digits.

When he got bored of those sounds, he’d pace.

Monotony killed him too though.

Steeldust grit his denta. “I-hate-the-box.”

/

Knockout frowned as his friend complained again.

“I’m fine, Doc. Just let me go.”

“No, you’re not fine. You will stay here in the medbay where I can keep an optic on you until I say so.”

“It’s just a couple scratches,” protested Breakdown.

Knockout scoffed. “Right. That speed demon tried to gut you several times and missed, but they’re just scratches. I don’t think I need a welder for scratches”

Breakdown frowned, but didn’t protest further.

“Good. Now that that’s settled, I need to speak with Megatron. Stay here,” Knockout said, giving his friend a look.

“Yeah, sure.” muttered the warrior.

Knockout smirked, then strode out of his medbay. Megatron was waiting in the corridor, leaned against a wall.

“How is he?” the leader asked, straightening as the medic approached.

Waving a hand, Knockout replied. “Oh, he’ll be fine. Down and resting for a few days at least but he’ll live. He’s lucky the kid was just playing with him.”

“Unfortunate for the others, he wasn’t,” added Megatron, shaking his helm. “I do not know why Optimus ordered them to kill everyone. It was needless.”

Knockout shrugged. “He wanted the mine. Sadly, the miners and guards were in his way.”

“It was the two alone?”

“That’s what Breakdown said. One of Smokescreen’s seekers and the speedster special op.”

Megatron frowned. “They’re dangerous. We need to make note of that and inform everyone what they’re capable of. I do not wish this to happen again.”

The medic scoffed. “The younger one isn’t called the Speed Demon for nothing. That’s the main problem though. They’re quick. Hard to catch.”

“Capture or catch off guard?”

“Pfft, both. Like I said, Breakdown is lucky.”

“Indeed. Tell him I send my regards and that I will visit him later when he’s more up to it.”

“Thank you, I will.”

Megatron dipped his helm in gratitude, then turned and made his way towards the command bridge.

_“Optimus must be getting low on energon if he’s going after our mines now,”_ he thought _. “I will have to get Soundwave to look into how they picked it up. Perhaps a signal jammer got broken.”_

The Decepticon leader sent a message to the communications specialist as he walked. He wasn’t certain if he was on the ship at present, but it needed to be dealt with.

And he also needed to speak with Starscream. Who was either on the command bridge or in the lab with Iron Blade.

“Perhaps I should call an officers’ meeting,” mused Megatron aloud. Deciding, he sent a message to all officers to meet in an hour.

Or as soon as Soundwave was able to return from wherever he and his minicons had skipped off to.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here we see that the Autobots don't always get along with their own comrades. Some hardly ever get along on the best of days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The two factions have been on Earth for awhile, so they've picked up some of the Earthling terms and lingo.

“Touch me and I’ll cut you,” came the hiss as Cliffjumper approached the only occupied cell in the brig.

The horned Autobot smirked. “Touchy today, aren’t we?”

Steeldust glared up at him through the small, barred window. “You would be too if you were stuck down here.”

Cliffjumper shrugged and with a chuckle, replied, “You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t run your mouth.”

“Do ya got a reason for being here? Or do I have to look at your ugly faceplate just cause ya wanna taunt me?”

The red Autobot frowned, crossing his servos. “You’re lucky I’m not command.”

Turning back to face the wall, the younger ‘Bot resumed carving lines into it with a knife. “Nobody would make you command. We’d lose half the ranks.”

“Right. You want out or not?”

Steeldust paused midstrike, turning his helm to peer over his shoulder at the other Autobot.

Cliffjumper’s faceplate split in a grin. “I can’t believe you just fell for that. You thought I’d let you out?”

Letting out a huff, Steeldust went back to what he was doing as Cliffjumper cackled, walking away.

“It says gullible on the ceiling, Steeldust,” he called over his shoulder.

“Sure does,” retorted the speedster without moving. “Cause I wrote it there, right where you’re standing.”

“What? Hey-“ growled Cliffjumper, falling for it.

Steeldust simply smirked, listening as Cliffjumper left the brig, cursing under his breath.

* * *

Smokescreen sauntered down the hallway, a wide smirk on his faceplate.

He had some news to give a certain someone.

Reaching one of the training rooms, the seeker paused, looking inwards.

A lone figure was using the room.

Leaning against the doorway, Smokescreen crossed his servos. He smirked as he watched.

The lithe femme threw punch after punch, kick after kick, into the training dummy.

_“Such finesse and grace accompanied by strength,”_ the mech thought to himself as he watched.

With a war cry, the femme withdrew a sword and made the final blow, plunging the blade into the dummy’s midsection then wrenching it upwards. The stuffing poured out onto the floor as the two halves fell apart.

She stilled as she heard slow clapping behind her.

“Very impressive as always,” Smokescreen said.

Without turning, the femme replied. “What do you want, Smokescreen?”

Smokescreen made a tsking sound as he shoved off of the door frame. Taking several steps forward he chuckled. “Skeptical as ever, aren’t we?”

Sheathing her sword, the femme then leaned down to pick up the remains of the training dummy.

“You have to be around here.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Finally turning her helm to look at him, she sneered, “Because sometimes it is hard to tell who’s your friend and who’s just pretending so they can get what they want.”

Smokescreen frowned. “I see.”

Slinging the dummy over her shoulder, the femme strode over to the nearby closet, placing it inside with the others that needed repairing. The seeker walked up behind her, as she closed the door.

“And which one of those do you think I am, Skyshadow?” Smokescreen whispered in her audio.

Skyshadow froze at his closeness. “That varies.”

Gently taking her shoulder, Smokescreen turned her around. He studied her delicate, defined facial features.

“What do you want, Smokescreen?” Skyshadow prompted, optic ridges furrowing.

“When I dethrone Optimus, you could rule by my side,” he whispered, staring intently into her optics. “I have a plan, one that will for sure work this time. You could be a part of it.”

Skyshadow stared at him for a klik. Then, she scoffed, crossing her servos.

“As much as I’d love for the Prime to be eliminated, I know your little scheme would never work,” she said lowly.

“What do you mean?”

“Have they ever worked before? Oh, and Lord Optimus is catching on that you’re the one behind most of the assassination attempts.”

Smokescreen snorted. “Yes, but the accomplices I’ve had in the past are all idiots.” He paused, smiling down at Skyshadow as he lifted a hand to caress her faceplate. “You however, would be perfect. You’re clever, swift, ruthless. He’d never see it coming.”

Swatting his hand away and ducking around him, Skyshadow took several steps away, turning to look over her shoulder. “Of course, he wouldn’t. Even if I did agree.”

“What?” sputtered Smokescreen, turning to follow her.

“Like you said, I’m not stupid. I’m not about to take part in a coup that I know won’t work.”

Smokescreen gritted his denta, taking several long strides to catch up. Blocking the other warrior’s way, he halted.

“You haven’t even heard it yet!”

Lifting her chin, Skyshadow replied coolly, “I don’t have to.

“And even if it did, what makes you think that I wish to rule by your side?”

“We’d make a perfect match,” Smokescreen said with a smirk. “Just think of it, you and me, the king and queen. Nothing and no one could stop us.”

“Sounds delightful, but no.”

“Why not,” demanded the now irked seeker.

Skyshadow rolled her optics, twitching a wing in agitation. “You and I would never work. Besides, I’m not looking for someone.”

“Why are you still with Sunstreaker?” Smokescreen sputtered. “He’s vain and self centred. Plus, he’s been weird since Sideswipe died.”

“Better than being with you,” replied Skyshadow sharply. “And I don’t know if you don’t get it or something, but his twin _died_. He is grieving. And for the record, Sideswipe was my friend, so watch it.”

She then stepped around him, helm held high. “I’d watch your mouth also, and your step, Smokescreen. There’s a lot of bigger ‘Bots than you who’d love to give the Prime a reason to kick you out of your rank.”

The head seeker turned, scowling. “You wouldn’t tell anyone. You want him gone just as much as I do.”

Skyshadow paused by the door, casting a glance back at him. A sharp smile crossed her faceplate.

“For different reasons, but you are correct.

“However, I may not be a snitch,” she said, pausing an astroklik. “But I am an assassin. Who doesn’t take kindly to threats.”

With that, she left the room, leaving Smokescreen to sputter and fume by himself.

“She’s wrong. I’ll change her mind,” he growled, balling his hands into fists. “She thinks I’m unable to take what is rightfully mine. But Optimus will fall one orn.”

Stalking out into the hallway, he made his way towards his personal quarters.

“And I’ll be waiting to take his place. The Autobots will be mine to lead.”

Little did Smokescreen know, there was someone listening to the latter part of his and Skyshadow’s conversation.

What the listener had heard was old news however, and luckily for Smokescreen, they didn’t feel like it needed to be brought to anyone’s attention.

Sneaking away, the Autobot decided that he’d follow the femme for a bit. While Smokescreen wasn’t exactly worth following at the moment due to almost everyone knew he wanted to be the next leader, Skyshadow was a bit more mysterious with her intentions.

And she didn’t have a reputation for no reason.

If he could catch her up to something, that might be more valuable then whatever garbage Smokescreen was likely going on about.

And so, he swiftly headed in the direction Skyshadow had gone, wondering to himself if it was already too late to catch up with the slippery assassin.

* * *

Smokescreen flopped down in a chair in the rec room, energon in hand.

The two mechs at the table looked up from their conversation when he joined them.

“Tough day, kid?” asked Bulkhead, smirking down at the seeker.

With a glare, Smokescreen took a drink out of his energon cube. “None of your business.”

Bulkhead and Jazz exchanged a look while the latter chuckled.

“Whatever ya say, Smoke.”

“Why are you even here, Jazz?” Smokescreen muttered with annoyance. “Aren’t you supposed to be, oh I don’t know, guarding our leader?”

“Rico’s got it. I’m on my break.”

“Huh, didn’t think he’d let you have those,” snarked the seeker.

Jazz grinned, leaning his chair back to balance on two legs. “By the way, ya might wanna back off a that girl, Smokescreen.”

Smokescreen froze, cube halfway to his faceplate. “What do you know about it?”

“Don’t bother asking him, kid,” Bulkhead snickered, taking a swig out of his own energon cube.

“She’s pretty, but she can figure out crazy amounts o’ ways to kill ya just by looking at ya,” replied Jazz casually.

Smokescreen scoffed. “I don’t think she would try to kill me.”

“Don’t be so sure. Besides, even if she decided ya weren’t worth her time doing it, ya got the gladiator to worry about.”

“He wouldn’t dare,” hissed the seeker. “He’d die for his treachery if I didn’t kill him first.”

The bodyguard grinned wickedly. “He would if ya try an make too many moves on his girl.”

“Of course the girl chose him,” Bulkhead muttered. “Picks the vainest mech in the pack.”

“He’s got the looks though,” pointed out Jazz, putting his pedes on the table.

The wrecker rolled his optics. “So does she. But he’s vain as a peacock, she’s not.”

“Yeah,” agreed the bodyguard. “But she’s got her own faults that drive mecha away.”

“Like the ‘I’m thinking about killing you slowly and painfully, just haven’t decided how yet look?’”

“Yeah that’s one of them.”

“Sheesh, they really deserve each other.”

Smokescreen’s helm turned back and forth between the two as he listened, frown growing deeper as they went on. Finally, he interjected.

“I’m still gonna get her one day.”

“Give it up, lover boy,” laughed Jazz. “She’s way above your level.”

“Heck, Steeldust might be closer to her level than you,” Bulkhead added with a snicker.

“That punk?” Smokescreen snorted. “He’s too focused on poking the chain of command and stabbing stuff.”

“Exactly why you’re still friends. You don’t view him as a threat.”

Smokescreen downed the rest of his energon, then stood up. He lifted a hand to point at the two other Autobots.

“Look. As long as he stays away from her, we’re good. And as long as he doesn’t do something stupid like get killed.

“And just watch. Me and Skyshadow will be a thing some day.”

Bulkhead and Jazz watched him saunter away, then turned back to face each other.

“They already are a thing,” muttered Bulkhead. “Not the kind of thing he wants though.”

Jazz snickered, optics narrowing beneath his visor. “Maybe she’ll end up turning his assassination attempts right back at him one day.”

“Why doesn’t the Prime just get rid of him?”

“Cause he’s useful as lead seeker.”

* * *

Skyshadow stepped quietly into the command centre, audios on high alert.

No one was using the computers, although there should be someone nearby acting as monitor duty.

The assassin smirked. No one would know she left the base because the someone who was supposed to be out here wasn’t.

Not that they’d likely notice her even if they were.

Then, she frowned, a wingtip twitching.

However, it wasn’t the Autobot on monitor duty that she needed to be concerned about.

It was the one that had been following her ever since her conversation with the seeker leader.

With a roll of her optics, she spoke without turning.

“I know you’re there.”

A muttered curse came from just down the hall, making Skyshadow curl her lips in a smirk.

She listened as pedesteps approached, their owner now not bothering to attempt to make them quiet.

“How long have you known I was there?” asked the mech in a growl as he came to stand next to her.

Skyshadow turned her helm slightly to look up at him. “Ever since you started following me.”

The mech frowned deeply. “How did you know?”

Chuckling lowly, the assassin returned the stare he was giving her.

“You vent so loud I could have shot you in the dark with my optics closed.”

Baring his denta, the mech growled, “You do realize who you’re talking to, right?”

“Yeah. Doesn’t mean I care though.” Skyshadow walked several steps into the room before continuing.

“You might be one of the Prime’s favourites, but you have no real rank because of it. So, stop trying to use the favouritism to get to me. It won’t work.”

The mech stood watching, a dark glare on his faceplate.

Skyshadow looked over her shoulder, grinning maliciously. “Besides. You’re just my brother.”

“Who’s better than you.”

“Tell me again who has won the most sparring matches?”

The mech growled again, not wishing to answer. “I think that’s irrelevant. I’m ruthless towards my enemies-“ he paused, a wicked, haughty grin appearing on his faceplate. “Just how Lord Optimus Prime likes his warriors.”

Skyshadow nodded. “Yes, but he also likes it when they have more than two processor chips to rub together.”

“Are you calling me stupid?!”

“Do Vosians fly?”

“Not if I shoot them down.”

“Ha. Who do you think you are? Bluestreak? You can hardly aim let alone bring down an elite flyer like those from Vos.”

“I hit you, didn’t I?”

“Lucky shot. And we’ll blame it on the only half-Vosian energon in me,” said Skyshadow smoothly. “Besides, groundpounder. You are still talking to the one you shot down, so obviously you didn’t do a good job.”

“I could remedy my mistake,” came the snarled response.

Skyshadow laughed before replying. “You wouldn’t dare.

“Even if you did break our twin bond, you’re too attached to actually kill me, Bumblebee.”

“My name’s Goldbug now!” the mech hissed.

“Whatever,” replied Skyshadow, already walking away.

So annoyed and worked up, it didn’t register with Goldbug that his sister left the base right in front of him.

“She’s mistaken if she thinks she can even compete with me,” he muttered. “And she’s wrong. I hate her. If Prime said the word, I’d have no problem killing her.”

After all, she might just be pretending to be loyal to the Autobots.

And Goldbug couldn’t be in any way associated with a possible traitor.

He snarled, baring his denta.

_“Just like our older brother who joined the Decepticons.”_


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Decepticons make a plan in the aftermath of the speedster brothers' attack. Skyshadow learns of something and takes action. Iron Blade gets an unpleasant surprise visit.

Megatron calmly waited for the last few of his officers to enter the meeting room. As they were seated, he spoke.

“Greetings, and thank you for coming on such short notice.”

“What is this about, Megatron?” inquired Starscream from beside him. “It must be urgent since you called us all to gather as soon as possible.”

“Indeed, Starscream,” rumbled the Decepticon leader with a frown.

“As some of you may have heard, there was an Autobot attack on one our mines earlier this solarcycle.”

“All miners and guards were killed except for Breakdown,” Knockout added quietly, staring down at the table, servos crossed.

The rest of the mecha present bent their helms in solemn silence for a few kliks.

Soundwave was the first to break the silence. “That’s just not cool, mechs. What did they do that for?”

Nodding, Megatron spoke again. “Yes, it was needless. Though I am grateful for Breakdown being spared, this has been a grave loss.”

“How many?” Iron Blade asked from his seat next to the Air Commander.

Megatron glanced towards the young scientist. “Ten.”

Iron Blade frowned and nodded silently.

“Is Breakdown alright?” asked Starscream, directing his question across the table to Knockout.

The medic replied quickly, “Yes, he will be back on his pedes within a week. He was lucky.”

“Thank the Allspark,” muttered Shockwave under his breath. Then louder, he continued. “I recommend finding out how the Autobots were able to find the mine, and then take precautions so that this does not happen again.”

“With your say-so, boss, I’ll get right on it,” Soundwave said, looking expectantly towards their leader. “I’ll make sure those Autocreeps can’t pick up any more signals in no time flat.”

“Very good, Soundwave,” Megatron said with a nod. “If you need any assistance, take Shockwave or Iron Blade with you.”

Knockout spoke again. “Do you wish for me to take a team of troopers and prepare the offline for burial?”

“Yes, Knockout.”

The medic sighed. “This is going to be a long offcycle. And if I may say, not to speak ill of the offline, gruesome.”

Starscream, Iron Blade, and Soundwave exchanged glances.

“How- How bad was the fight?” the Air Commander asked hesitantly.

“From what Breakdown told me, the pair tore them to pieces. He escaped with only injuries because it took time to get down from the cliff where he was. And then the kid was simply playing with him after he’d done his share of the damage I suppose. Or distraction while the other one grabbed any data from the computer system.”

The medic paused, lowering his helm. “He could have joined the rest if he hadn’t been on the cliff.”

“Wait, hold up,” the visored communication specialist said, raising his hands in gesture. “You said the pair. As in two?”

Knockout and Megatron nodded.

“That is also why I called you all together,” the leader said. “From Breakdown’s report, it seemed that the only Autobots present in this attack were the seeker called Blurr, and the spy called Steeldust.”

“Great, the Speed Demon is back,” grumbled Iron Blade, crossing his servos. “I haven’t seen that guy for awhile and I was liking it.”

“Isn’t Blurr also an intel officer?” Soundwave asked. “So, the two bros were out spying and then decided to go in for the kill?”

“Soundwave,” Shockwave reprimanded. “Don’t speak so casually of this matter.”

“Sorry, dude. Didn’t mean for it to sound like that. It just, you know. Came out.”

“Anyways,” said Knockout, stressing the word. “We need to think of a way to catch those two.”

“Good luck,” muttered Iron Blade.

Starscream glanced upwards in thought. “Perhaps we can create a trap for them. I will have to think further on the subject, but I may have an idea.”

At that, Iron Blade shot a glance towards his friend. “Are you planning to share?”

“Perhaps.”

“Very well,” Megatron rumbled. “I will leave that up to you for now then, Starscream. In addition, I’d like for you to increase the number of guards stationed on the various mines and sites we have on the ground. In the event that the Autobots attack again, they will be safer.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“The rest of you have your tasks. This meeting is over, thank you all for coming.”

With that, Soundwave was out the door like a shot. Everyone else got up and filed out as normal.

“You’d think he hated meetings or something,” mused Iron Blade as he walked down the corridor beside Starscream.

Walking behind them and overhearing, Shockwave answered. “He does.”

“And probably, his minions are likely waiting for him somewhere,” added Starscream.

“That cat better not be in the lab hiding somewhere,” grouched Iron Blade with a scowl. “Last time that stupid thing was in there, he spooked me and I almost dropped what I was carrying.”

“And what was that?” Starscream asked, his wings flicking in amusement.

“Acid that could’ve ate a hole into the floor.”

“What were you doing with it?” inquired Shockwave, a suspicious tone to his voice.

Iron Blade fidgeted, then turned his helm to look up at the bigger mech. “I intended to test it on some earth substances, in a controlled setting of course. But I was only going to take small samples of the stuff to the surface.

“I was headed for the table to put some into vials when the dumb cat jumped off of I don’t even know where.”

“I have a name you know,” said a voice from the nearby ventilation shaft.

All three mecha jumped slightly and turned towards the vent.

Two yellow optics stared down at them.

“RAVAGE!” yelled Iron Blade. “Stop doing that!”

“Make me,” the panther grinned, leaping out of the vent and bounding down the hall.

The warrior scientist gave chase immediately, running back the way the trio had come.

Shockwave and Starscream stood silent, watching as the two disappeared around a corner.

“For such a short mech, he is extremely loud,” Shockwave said, scratching an audio antenna.

“Agreed,” nodded Starscream. “But do not tell him that. He will only yell louder.”

They carried on towards the lab then, without Iron Blade, who they knew would join them later.

Once he caught or lost Ravage.

“Do you think he will succeed?”

“Hardly. Ravage likely knows this warship the best out of any of us. And he can fit where we can’t.”

“Iron Blade is determined. I feel as that will not help him in this case.”

“I agree, Shockwave. Wholeheartedly.”

* * *

Skyshadow transformed and dropped to the ground in a crouch.

Sharp audios listening to her surroundings, she straightened, glancing around.

A flash of black and red through the trees caught her attention.

Silently walking in between the large trees, Sky shook her helm.

_“I knew he’d be here,”_ she thought.

Emerging from the trees into the small clearing, a small sad smile appeared on the half-Vosian’s faceplate.

The mech sitting on a rock was throwing bits of gravel into the river at his pedes.

Something he and his brother once did together.

Drawing near, Skyshadow stopped several steps behind him.

She waited silently, knowing that the mech likely felt her watching him.

After several kliks, he spoke.

“How’d you know I was here?”

“This is one of your favourite places,” Skyshadow shrugged, folding her servos across her chest. She rose an optic ridge. “And it’s the closest one to base. It wasn’t hard to figure out.”

The mech snorted, throwing the rest of his handful of gravel at the water. “Was. Was one of my favourites.”

A hand touched his shoulder.

He glanced at it, then up at the mecha’s faceplate.

Skyshadow’s optics held pity and sorrow. “I’m sorry, Sunstreaker.”

Sunstreaker looked away, towards the setting sun.

“I know.”

“I’ll find out who offlined him. I promise,” Sky whispered, tone hard. “They will pay for what they did.”

“It was an ambush. How are you going to find them?” asked Sunstreaker quietly, looking down at the river. “We didn’t even find Sideswipe. And it was from behind, so he didn’t see who it was before he- “

Skyshadow knew he knew what he knew because of the twin bond.

Something she no longer had with her own twin.

How either of them had survived no longer being connected to their twins, she didn’t know.

“Don’t worry, I have my ways,” Skyshadow said. “Sideswipe will be avenged.”

Sunstreaker made no comment or movement in acknowledgment.

Which concerned Skyshadow.

She had spoken of them gaining revenge on whomever had killed his twin before. And she never received much of a reaction.

It was odd.

Normally, whenever one twin was in danger or being made fun of or something, the other twin would be right there. Snarling promises of vengeance or already dealing it out.

After all, if you took on one, you took on them both.

_“So why isn’t he eager to find Sideswipe’s killer?”_ Skyshadow wondered, optic ridges furrowing.

After a long silence, she spoke again.

“You’re not telling me something. Aren’t you?”

Sunstreaker froze.

That confirmed Skyshadow’s suspicions.

She moved forward and crouched in front of him. Waiting til Sunstreaker met her optics, she asked him another question.

“Sides isn’t dead, is he?”

Sunstreaker returned her stare for several kliks, then shook his helm. “No. He’s not.”

Skyshadow’s optics widened. “The Decepticons have him, don’t they?”

“I don’t know. He’s alive, but has been unconscious since the ambush. I can feel him, but very weakly. He’s injured.”

Biting her lip, Sky thought of what options they had.

Both of them knew Optimus Prime would never organize a rescue mission.

His rule was if you got yourself captured; it was your problem.

You were basically a lost cause. Not many Autobots could get on the Decepticons’ ship to begin with, let alone manage to escape after being spotted.

However, Skyshadow didn’t have her reputation as a master assassin and spy for no reason.

Placing a hand on Sunstreaker’s knee, she looked him in the optic.

“I swear to you, on my life, that we’ll get him back.”

Sunstreaker looked back at her, an apprehensive look on his faceplate. “We can’t rescue him. Prime won’t let anyone- “

The black and purple femme shook her helm, interrupting him. “You should know by now; I don’t need that old fool’s permission.”

Sunstreaker stood, pulling Skyshadow with him. Grabbing her shoulders, he looked down at her. Fear invaded his normally stoic faceplate. “I can’t let you do that, Sky. You can’t risk yourself for him.”

Sky smiled a sad smile, reaching to cup his faceplate with one hand. “You need your twin, Sunny. And I’ve been on and off that ship more times than even Soundwave knows. I’ll be alright.”

“I can’t lose you too,” Sunstreaker whispered, pulling her close.

Skyshadow returned the embrace quickly, then pushed away. Taking several steps backward, she spoke again.

“You won’t. I’ll be back. With Sideswipe.

“I promise, I’ll find him.” She turned and began walking away. Her optics narrowed as she gazed to the sky.

“Whatever it takes.”

Sunstreaker watched as she leaped into the air, transformed and flew away.

He frowned deeply.

“I shouldn’t have let her go,” he muttered, angry with himself.

But Sunstreaker wanted to know if his brother was okay. And he wanted him back.

And his girlfriend might be the only one able and willing to get him back home.

If it was safe for Sideswipe to come back to the Autobots.

Sunstreaker didn’t know for sure, but he had suspicions.

He suspected that Skyshadow did too.

* * *

Iron Blade was working late again.

Though that was not an unusual thing for him.

After chasing Soundwave’s dumb cat around the ship for awhile, the young warrior scientist had joined Starscream and Shockwave in the lab.

They’d thrown around some ideas for capturing the two Autobot speedsters for awhile.

Nothing for certain would work, but they had some good plans to try.

The other two scientists had long since retired to their rooms for the night.

Iron Blade stayed to work on one of his personal projects. One he was very proud of.

A sword that he’d worked on and off throughout his years. One that with a flick of a hidden switch in the hilt, could burst into flames.

Well, maybe not burst into flames. More like flames enveloping the blade.

Which was super cool.

But lately, the thing had been temperamental.

And so, Iron Blade was attempting to fix it and perhaps, make it work even better.

As he often was, he was so lost in his work that he didn’t hear the door open and close.

Or notice the silent figure sneak up behind him.

Iron Blade froze when he felt a cold, metal blade at his neck cables.

“Hello, brother,” came a hiss from behind him.

Recognizing the voice, Iron Blade was not certain whether or not he could relax.

At least it wasn’t his other sibling.

“What do you want,” he growled, trying not to move as much as he could.

“Information, dear brother,” the femme said, not moving her knife.

“I’m not telling you a thing, Skyshadow.” Iron Blade wanted to get up and draw his own weapon. Or turn in his seat to look at his little sister. Or at least cross his servos.

He was ticked that she had managed to get the drop on him. Another reminder that she had grown very dangerous since they had split ways.

And he knew from her tone, that she meant business. Maybe he wouldn’t die at her hands, but that depended on why she was here perhaps.

“Don’t worry, your loyalty isn’t in too much danger,” Skyshadow said smoothly. “I don’t want any information on your friends or faction.”

Iron Blade couldn’t help but furrow his optic ridges. “Then what do you want?”

Skyshadow moved to stand beside him instead of behind his chair, knife never leaving his neck cables.

The warrior scientist watched her warily, optics narrowed. She returned his stare, just as darkly.

“Where is Sideswipe?”

Iron Blade furrowed his optic ridges again. “Sideswipe?”

“Yes. Tall front liner. Green and black paint job. I’m sure you know who he is.”

“I know who he is,” Iron Blade snapped. “Why do you think we have him?”

Skyshadow’s lips curled up in a smirk and the scientist knew he’d said too much.

“Thank you for confirming my suspicions, dear brother,” she said smoothly. “Now. Which cell in your brig is he in?”

She paused, then glared down at her brother. Tone dangerous, she continued.

“And in what condition?”

“Excuse me?” Iron Blade demanded. “Do you really think that you can just show up on our ship and demand stuff.”

“Then what do you propose I do instead?” Skyshadow hissed. “Ask nicely?”

“Remove the knife from my neck and I might think about telling you.”

Skyshadow paused, and then to Iron Blade’s surprise, did as he asked.

“Only because I’m feeling merciful today, Iron Blade. Now, Sideswipe.”

“What do I get in return for telling you?”

Skyshadow watched him warily, knowing there was a good chance he may attack now that there was no blade at his neck stopping him. She moved a step back.

“You get a former Autobot seeker off your ship and I don’t do any sabotaging.”

“That’s not a deal,” Iron Blade growled, rising to his pedes.

“Well, you’re not offering any, are you?” snapped Skyshadow, backing away another step.

“Get out before I have to take you prisoner, Skyshadow.”

“Not without Sideswipe.”

Iron Blade shook his helm, frowning deeply. Drawing a sword from the sheath on his hip, he stepped away from his desk.

“Then so be it.”

Lunging forward, Iron Blade swung his sword. Skyshadow ducked, then slammed her fist into his unprotected side. Grunting, Iron Blade brought the hilt of his sword down towards Skyshadow’s helm. She saw it coming and dropped to the floor, rolling out of the way. Iron Blade followed her, but didn’t have time to attack before she was back on her pedes. He dodged the fist aimed at his faceplate, the deflected another with his free hand.

“You’ve gotten better,” he said approvingly, swinging his sword again.

Skyshadow bent backwards to avoid it, wings touching the ground. Following the motion with a flip, she smirked as she answered.

“It seems sitting and being a scientist hasn’t made you lose any of your skill. So far.”

Throwing a sudden kick at his tank, Skyshadow was stopped in her tracks as Iron Blade caught her pede. Her optics widened as he smirked.

Then, she returned the smirk and threw a quick jab with the palm of her hand into his chestplate. The hit made him stumble back, letting go of her pede.

Recovering quickly, Iron Blade realized he needed to go on the offensive.

And so, he did.

Swinging his sword left and right, Iron Blade forced Skyshadow to bring out her own sword to block his.

While she was a skilled sword master, Iron Blade was better.

Forcing her to parry and block his strikes instead of deliver her own, Iron Blade had the upper hand.

Suddenly, Skyshadow darted out of reach, dropped to the floor and rolled under a nearby table. As soon as she was standing, she turned and kicked the empty table at her brother.

Slicing it in half before it could hit him, the two sections fell away at his sides with a clatter.

Skyshadow was immediately in front of him again. Her blade flew toward his faceplate, fortunately he ducked out of the way just in time. Feeling the blade brush his helmet, his optics widened.

He was less sure that his sister wouldn’t kill him if it came down to it.

Swinging his sword towards her tank, he jerked back and jabbed towards her shoulder as she went to block him. Missing his sword, she dodged the jab, but barely.

Iron Blade charged, knowing she would move out of the way of his bigger frame. Since she favoured her right hand, he knew she would move to the right.

Or he was mostly certain.

Skyshadow proved him right when she dodged the direction he’d predicted.

Sticking out a pede, Iron Blade tripped her, grabbing her wrist as she fell.

She’d been prepared to land on the ground and get back up quickly. She didn’t expect Iron Blade to grab her, breaking her fall. Before she could react, he hit her hand on a nearby table hard enough to break her grip on her sword.

It clattered onto the ground, leaving her without a weapon.

That had a sharp blade anyways.

With a growl, she let herself go limp, pulling Iron Blade to the floor with her. Smacking his helm against it when he landed with her free hand, she then punched him in the faceplate. He let go of her wrist and she leapt to her pedes.

Dazed, he followed, now also having lost his sword. He barely deflected the jabs and punches that flew towards him before he was able to deliver some back.

After several kliks of close combat, Iron Blade finally got the upper hand.

He grabbed Skyshadow’s wing and swung her into the wall. Gritting her denta, Skyshadow tried to get away, but he was just as quick.

Holding her against the wall by the wing, he vented hard. “Nice try, kid. But I’m still better at fighting than you are.”

A growl from Skyshadow and then Iron Blade felt a sharp pain in his side. Glancing down, he noted that she’d grabbed a scalpel from the nearby table and managed to find a chink between his armoured plating on his side.

Luckily for him, she hadn’t been able to get a good angle and didn’t cut him very deep.

Not enough to be real concerned about at the moment anyways.

Not life threatening.

Again, Iron Blade hit her hand against the table, making her drop the weapon.

“You little brat,” he growled, pulling her around by the servo and wing to face him. Then, shoving her towards the wall again, he pulled out his own knife from subspace.

“You tell me something,” he said, tone angry.

Skyshadow stilled when she felt the blade at her neck cables.

“Now the tables are turned,” Iron Blade growled. “What do you really want, Skyshadow? Tell me one good reason that I shouldn’t throw you in the brig.”

Lifting her chin, Skyshadow answered quickly, a dark look in her ruby optics. “Not every Autobot is as heartless as you Decepticons think.

“Some of us care enough to risk themselves on a rescue mission.”

“What else are you here for?” demanded Iron Blade.

“Sideswipe. That’s it,” Skyshadow hissed, baring her fanged denta. “Tell me where he is and I’ll be on my way.”

“No.” Iron Blade glared into his sister’s optics. “I’m not going to let you have the run of our ship.”

“You tell me where Sideswipe is and I’ll tell you something you want to know,” Skyshadow said. “I’m sure you would like to know something about the Autobots.”

Iron Blade snorted. “You wouldn’t betray your faction.”

Skyshadow shrugged slightly. Her gaze never moved from her brother’s as she spoke.

“Not all of us stay because we’re loyal, Iron Blade.”

Iron Blade’s glare softened. “He broke bonds with you, Sky. With all of us.”

“He’s still my brother,” Skyshadow said sharply.

“Am I not too?”

Skyshadow looked away. “What do you want, Iron Blade?”

The warrior scientist stared at his sister.

Did she not care for him at all?

“Alright,” Iron Blade said, growing angry again. “You know what I want, Skyshadow?”

He waited until she met his burning, blue optics once again.

“What?” she spat.

“Where’s our mother?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anybody else get a bit of Zuko and Azula vibes from our oc siblings?   
> Think I've already mentioned it, but Skyshadow belongs to me, Iron Blade to my brother who occasionally assists me in co-writing parts of this story. Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More secrets and mystery, an unpleasant family reunion, troublemakers, and a rec room brawl are included in this chapter.

The speedster’s helm lifted when he heard the brig door open.

Swiftly, he sat up and rubbed his optics.

He couldn’t let whoever it was that was coming know that he’d been lying on the floor in recharge.

Exhaustion was seen as a form of weakness in some mecha’s optics.

Dimly, he recognized the pedesteps of the incoming mecha and relaxed.

This one, while not exactly the kindest mecha in the Autobot ranks, wasn’t necessarily cruel to him.

A pair of red optics looked in at the speedster through the small, barred window.

“Yo,” Steeldust said with a wry grin. He then frowned, noting his voice sounded off from lack of use. “What’s up?”

“I’ve been sent to come and get you,” Sunstreaker said quietly. Reaching in subspace, he brought out a key.

Steeldust perked up at the sound of the lock turning, but didn’t get up.

Opening the door, Sunstreaker looked expectantly towards his fellow Autobot.

“Are you coming?”

Tilting his helm, Steeldust studied him carefully. “Are ya for real?”

With a scoff, Sunstreaker shook his helm, entering the cell. “I’m not like Cliffjumper, you idiot. Come on.”

Steeldust took Sunstreaker’s extended hand and let him pull him to his pedes.

If it weren’t for the former gladiator looking at the other young mech’s faceplate, he would’ve missed the momentary wince of pain as he stood.

“Are you alright?” Sunstreaker asked, glancing at his hand and back to the other mech.

He’d assumed that the dried energon covering Steeldust was from the mission he was on before he got thrown in the brig. Not his own.

Or at least not mostly.

But the frontliner wouldn’t be surprised if there had been a minor injury overlooked or unknown by the Prime and the bodyguards who had chucked Steeldust down here.

Or that Ricochet kicked him around first.

Steeldust, caught off guard by the question, shook himself. His signature grin and casual attitude returned, hiding whatever momentary surprise he had had.

“Same as always, Sunstreaker.”

He passed the other young mech, patting him on the shoulder as he went.

“Thanks for coming to get me. Say, what day is it? Being in here always screws with my internal clock.”

“It’s Tuesday,” Sunstreaker replied with a frown, following his friend and wiping the dried energon off of his hand and shoulder.

“Huh, it’s only been a day then,” Steeldust said quietly, not looking away from the brig entrance. “Weird.”

Sunstreaker said nothing, just followed.

It was none of his business what the ops ‘bot did and how often he got himself in trouble.

And he knew that Steeldust knew how to avoid trouble.

The frontliner shook his helm as the pair left the brig and headed to the rest of the base.

That was one of the things that he didn’t get about the spec ops ‘bot. And his own brother.

Both Sideswipe and Steeldust seemed to thrive on running to trouble.

Except in Steeldust’s case, when he was caught it didn’t work well for him.

Sunstreaker quickly found himself losing the limping, fast walking speedster. 

“Steel,” he called. “Wait up a minute.”

It took a few seconds, as if the special op needed to decide whether or not he was going to stop.

But he did, turning his helm to look over his shoulder at Sunstreaker.

Closing the distance with several steps, the frontliner leaned forward, speaking in a whisper.

“I need your advice. And maybe your help.”

Steeldust rose his optic ridges, turning fully to face the taller frontliner.

“What is it?” he asked in a curious whisper.

Hesitating, Sunstreaker frowned. He’d thought about whether or not it was a good idea to ask Steeldust for help.

And he still wasn’t sure.

But Steeldust was one of his few friends.

And one of Sideswipe’s.

Leaning closer again, Sunstreaker decided to go for it.

Steeldust froze as he whispered three words in his audio.

“Sideswipe isn’t dead.”

* * *

The Vosian captain paused from his observation of the troops, looking towards the ship’s entrance. His young companion, one of the Commander’s trinemates, noticed this.

“Sir?” Skywarp inquired, curiosity in his tone.

The older Vosian turned to the younger one. “I need to attend to something, Skywarp. Please ensure the Eradicons finish this drill. You all can be dismissed afterwards.”

“Yes, Sir,” Skywarp replied smartly, grin wide on his faceplate.

It was not very often that the captain let him lead the training drills.

Nodding once and returning a smile to the eager young mech, the captain swiftly took his leave of the rest.

Entering the ship, he headed towards the lab.

Something had made his son distressed. Ironshadow could feel it through their bond.

He had an inkling of what was the cause.

Also, through a much fainter bond, he could feel another family member’s distress.

The Vosian captain did know one thing for certain.

His daughter was present aboard the Nemesis.

And she likely was not here for good reasons.

If Iron Blade was involved, then Ironshadow needed to move quickly.

_“My children still get along like much younger children,”_ he thought to himself as he strode down the halls.

Various groups of Vehicons, noting that the captain was on a mission, moved silently out of his way to let him pass.

_“Unfortunately, both Iron Blade and Skyshadow have grown much more dangerous in their fighting.”_

Uncertainty about Skyshadow’s latest reason for sneaking onto the Decepticon ship made Ironshadow uneasy about the outcome of their newest fight.

For even though he had not made it to their location, he knew that they were likely locked in combat.

* * *

“What do you mean, he’s not dead,” hissed Steeldust, narrowing his optics at the frontliner. “You said he was. He’s been missing since- You know.”

Sunstreaker glared, lifting a finger to his mouth. “Not so loud, idiot. I’ll tell you more, but not here.”

Crossing his servos, Steeldust returned the glare.

Even Sunstreaker had to admit, with the scar that ran from the speedster’s optic ridge, across his optic lid, and down to his cheek, he looked intimidating.

“Okay,” snapped Steeldust.

Turning, he beckoned for Sunstreaker to follow him. “This way.”

Knowing that the other ‘bot likely was taking him to a place where they couldn’t be overheard, the frontliner followed.

Despite his longer legs, Sunstreaker soon found himself hustling to keep up with the swift speedster.

It turned out that Steeldust intended to stop at the wash racks first, seeing he was still partly covered in a bunch of Decepticon energon.

Sunstreaker didn’t actually mind the delay. He himself hated getting dirty.

Waiting outside the wash racks, leaning against the wall, he suspiciously watched the mecha passing by in the hallway.

Something about what happened to Sideswipe didn’t add up. And it was bothering him.

One mecha paused when he saw him, drawing near to Sunstreaker’s distaste.

“What do you want?” the frontliner demanded with a scowl.

Blurr seemed mostly unfazed by the threatening tone. He stopped in front of the other mech, quick optics darting about before opening his mouth.

“Have you seen my brother?”

Before Sunstreaker could reply, a certain mechling opened the washrack door and joined them outside.

“Looking for me?” Steeldust asked, a smirk on his faceplate.

Turning his helm to his brother, Blurr looked him over once.

“You’re injured.”

Steeldust shrugged. “I’m fine. It’s just a scratch and a few bruises.”

The older speedster narrowed his optics. “Ricochet?”

Ignoring him, the red and black speedster turned his attention to Sunstreaker. “I’m gonna grab some energon and then we can go.”

“Go where?” inquired Blurr, furrowing his optic ridges. “You two are not on patrol today.”

Sunstreaker sent another glare towards Blurr. “None of your business.”

“My brother is involved,” Blurr replied smoothly, crossing his servos over his chest. “Therefore, so am I.”

“Maybe he doesn’t want you involved at the moment,” hissed Sunstreaker, leaning over the shorter mech. “Don’t you think you were already too involved this week?”

Knowing that Sunstreaker was hinting that he had had a hand in getting Steeldust thrown in the brig, Blurr bristled.

Thrusting a finger forward, the intelligence officer jabbed the frontliner in the chest.

“That was not my fault,” he hissed.

“No?” asked Sunstreaker with a sneer. He brushed Blurr’s hand away. “You had nothing to do with it?”

Steeldust’s helm turned back and forth as the two continued to argue.

“How bout the guy who actually was involved has a say?” he protested with a snarl.

He was ignored, Blurr and Sunstreaker now yelling at each other.

Narrowing his optics at the two taller mecha, Steeldust frowned.

“You’re hopeless,” he muttered. “I’m going to get something to drink.”

Stomping away, he continued to mutter as his friend and his brother continued to argue.

About something else other than him now. Likely stuff he didn’t care about.

Once he got closer to the energon hall, his keen audios picked up loud chatter of multiple mecha.

One voice in particular, made Steeldust’s annoyed expression turn into a snarl.

Entering the room, he quickly located the mech.

“I tell you all, that Blurr is something else,” the short mech said from behind the bar counter.

Apparently, it was the annoying chatterbox’s turn to man the bar side of the energon hall.

And of course, talk about how awful he thought Blurr was.

“He struts around like he’s better than the rest of us,” Swerve continued, earning a few nods from the nearby mecha. “Both him and that stuck-up spy Mirage.

“We’d be better without them. Did I tell you all what that dumb speedster said to me the other orn?”

“No, but you probably deserved it,” someone spoke up from nearby.

Swerve and his buddies turned to see what newcomer had decided it was a good idea to interrupt.

Some quickly turned back around, finding their drinks suddenly very interesting.

Steeldust stalked closer, optics flashing with anger. Reaching the counter, he stopped in front of the current bartender.

Swerve glared at him from across the counter. “You think so, huh, punk? Then maybe you’re just like that worthless, stuck up brother of yours.”

A nasty snarl crossed Steeldust’s faceplate and before anyone could do anything, he moved.

Decking Swerve square in the faceplate, he watched as the surprised minibot fell to the ground with a clatter, taking several nearby glasses with him.

At the sound of shattering glass, suddenly everyone’s attention was on the young speedster.

Not that he cared.

“You sure you wanna talk about my brother like that, Swerve?” Steeldust asked, tone deadly cold.

Swerve sat up, bringing a hand to touch his faceplate, drawing it back when he felt energon. He glared up at the younger mech as he staggered to his pedes, helm still reeling.

The surrounding mecha watched silently, waiting to see what would happen next. A few readied themselves to intervene, but stayed where they were for the moment.

“It’s called freedom of speech, brat,” Swerve hissed, placing his hands on the counter to steady himself. “And I’m entitled to my opinions. Now buzz off.”

He half turned, grabbing a broom to sweep up the broken glass. Glancing back at the speedster, he continued, “You don’t have any business being on this side of the room anyways, since you’re still underage.”

Steeldust crossed his servos and scoffed. “I wouldn’t drink even if I was of age. And you talk too much to deserve the right to speak freely about whatever you want.”

Swerve whirled around, pointing a finger at the speedster. “Hey. You can’t say that- “

“Fight me.”

Opening his mouth to say more, Swerve lifted his broom. “Willingly. I hope you- “

Just when the end of the broom was about to collide with the side of his helm, Steeldust reached up and caught it with a hand, halting it in its place.

Swerve tugged at his end of it, but before he could do much, the speedster had a knife in his other hand.

With a swift strike, the broom handle was cut in half and Swerve took a step back as all resistance was gone.

He stared at the sheared end of his broom in shock, then turned his attention back to his opponent.

A sharp smile appeared on the special op’s faceplate as he twirled his half of the broomstick.

“Still wanna fight?” he inquired.

Swerve didn’t get a chance to reply.

Blurr and Sunstreaker, having ceased arguing when they realized Steeldust had disappeared, made their way to the energon hall.

At the open doorway, they halted when they saw what was going on inside.

Swerve was desperately waving around part of a broom while trying to run away from Steeldust, who was beating him over the helm with the other half.

Various mecha present were cheering the fight on, while others tried to push them out of the way to get to the fighting mecha. Still others were trying to ignore the whole thing.

“Get away from me- Ow! You stupid- Ow!” Swerve yelled, raising the broom and his servos over his helm.

Blurr raised a hand to cover his faceplate. “He hasn’t been out of the brig an hour.”

Sunstreaker smirked, crossing his servos as he watched the show.

Steeldust looked like he was rather enjoying himself.

After several minutes of the one-sided fight, one mech sitting on a bar stool stood.

“ENOUGH!” he roared.

Immediately, everything stopped.

Mecha returned to their seats at various paces. Swerve ducked under a table, not wishing to face Ironhide’s wrath less than he wanted to be continually beat over the helm. Steeldust stayed where he was, crouched on his haunches on top of another table.

Ironhide scanned the room, eyeing each mecha before meeting the gaze of the two troublemakers.

Swerve laughed nervously from under the table, shrinking under the warrior’s stare. Steeldust, meanwhile, showed no emotion, levelly returning it.

“You two, get over here,” growled Ironhide.

“Oh no,” muttered Blurr.

Quickly, Steeldust flipped off of the table and strode over to stand in front of the mech, Swerve following cautiously behind.

“What have you been told about infighting?” Ironhide demanded, leaning over the pair threateningly.

“To not to,” Swerve supplied nervously.

Steeldust smirked.

“Shut up!” roared Ironhide, making the minibot cower further. “I didn’t ask you for an answer!”

“But you asked a question!” protested Swerve with a frown.

“I didn’t want you to answer it! Did you not just learn anything? You don’t think about what comes out of your mouth before it does!”

“But- “

“What did I just say?”

Steeldust tilted his helm, looking up at the bigger mech. He gestured a hand towards the minibot. “May I?”

Ironhide rounded on the speedster, who didn’t so much as flinch.

“Please do!”

With that, he turned and stomped back to his seat, the remaining few in the nosy crowd that had returned parting for him.

After Ironhide was seated, everyone else turned their attention back to the middle of the room.

“What did he mean?” Swerve asked, arching an optic ridge. He jerked his helm away from Ironhide to look up at the speedster. “What did you mean?”

Steeldust only smirked and drew a servo back.

The minibot’s optics widened. “No! No more, please!”

His pleas were ignored and Steeldust decked him once more, knocking him to the floor. Unconscious this time.

Relaxing, Steeldust glanced around, noting everyone was staring.

“Whatcha looking at?” he asked casually before walking away from the fallen minibot.

Joining Blurr and Sunstreaker at the doorway, he tilted his helm, flicking a doorwing.

“You two need something?”

Blurr sent him a disapproving look but sighed and moved out of the way, shaking his helm.

“You are lucky that Ironhide likes you for some reason,” he hissed in a whisper.

The red and black shrugged and exited the room with Sunstreaker following him.

“Nice job.”

“Thanks. Hey, ya think I should use a broom handle to fight Decepticons? It’s pretty effective,” Steeldust said with a smirk.

Sunstreaker returned the smirk. “Maybe. But I think your blades are more effective.”

“True. Now let’s find a place to chat.”

Blurr was soon left behind, watching the pair walk quickly down the hall.

He hadn’t heard all of what they were saying, but he knew they were up to something.

Not only as his brother but as a fellow ops with a higher rank, Blurr could, and really should, follow Steeldust and demand where he was going and what he was doing.

But the intel officer didn’t want to have to report to the Prime about something his brother was up to.

Blurr has done that once.

And never would do it again.

Every time he looked at his little brother, there was a reminder of what had happened when he’d gotten him caught.

And Steeldust hadn’t even been doing anything that bad.

Just potentially traitorous.

It had almost cost him an optic.

Blurr was thankful it hadn’t. And also, that his brother didn’t know that it was him who had ratted him out.

For if he knew, the older brother feared that Steeldust would break their bond and disown him.

They were at times, barely hanging on to each other as it was.

Steeldust had every right to never acknowledge him again, but Blurr knew he would become even more reckless with grief and pain.

For his sake, perhaps more than his own, Blurr hoped he never found out that he was the cause of Steeldust’s scar.

* * *

“Tell me where she is!”

“You don’t want to know.”

Iron Blade glared at his sister, still holding her at knifepoint against the wall.

“Yes, I do. Tell me and I’ll tell you where Sideswipe is.”

Skyshadow rolled her optics. “Then I’ll find him on my own.”

“No, you won’t,” growled Iron Blade. “You won’t find him without my help.”

“Well, I won’t tell you where mother is because you aren’t supposed to know,” Skyshadow hissed in return. “So, I guess we’re at a stalemate.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m going to let you go!”

Iron Blade was furious. He knew his sister knew where their mother was, but she always refused to tell him when he asked.

No matter how he asked it seemed.

Before he could say more, Skyshadow turned her helm, as if listening. Then, she turned her attention back to Iron Blade.

With a smirk, she said, “Well, well, well. It seems our conversation is about to be cut short.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re about to get in trouble,” Skyshadow singsonged darkly.

“Huh?” Iron Blade arched an optic ridge.

Then, he heard what Skyshadow must have, just before the lab door opened.

A tall, middle aged Vosian entered the room, almost immediately noticing the siblings. The door slid shut behind him and he turned to face them, servos folded behind his back.

All three were silent for several kliks.

“Skyshadow, it has been some time,” the mech said, wingtips twitching as he studied the femme.

He turned his helm to acknowledge Iron Blade. “Is this anyway to greet your sister?”

Iron Blade scoffed, not moving from his position. “Trust me, father. She greeted me in a much less polite way.”

Skyshadow’s optics narrowed. “Would you be so kind as to let me go? I think we’re finished here.”

“Well, I don’t,” hissed Iron Blade angrily.

“Enough,” commanded Ironshadow calmly. He strode forward, stopping beside his son. “Why have you come, Skyshadow?”

“As I told my dear brother, I only came to recover a missing comrade. However, he’s being difficult,” she replied.

Ironshadow’s optic ridges furrowed. “Iron Blade?”

“Seriously? You want me to take her to him?” sputtered the warrior scientist. “She’ll just run off.”

“No.” The captain turned to Skyshadow again, faceplate stern. “She won’t.”

Begrudgingly, Iron Blade removed the knife from his sister’s throat. Backing away several steps, he kept a close optic on her.

Skyshadow brushed herself off, glaring at Iron Blade.

“I am growing tired of repeating myself,” she said in a low hiss. “I will ask once more and if I don’t get an answer, there will be bloodshed.

“Where is Sideswipe?”

The two mechs exchanged a look, knowing the younger femme spoke truth.

If they didn’t comply, then she would run. And if any Decepticons got in her way while she searched...

“We will take you to him,” Ironshadow said. Over their bond, he told Iron Blade, _“You should’ve just done as she asked.”_

The captain made his way out of the lab, followed by Skyshadow. Iron Blade replied as he brought up the rear.

_“But dad, we can’t trust her!”_

_“You seem to trust her at least somewhat. Do you trust her enough to not kill you if you give her the chance?”_

Iron Blade didn’t reply. He didn’t know for sure, but he was beginning to think that she might.

He didn’t know if his father knew what Skyshadow for sure would do.

“This is not the way to your brig,” Skyshadow noted suspiciously, eyeing their surroundings.

“Your friend is not in the brig,” replied Ironshadow quietly.

As Iron Blade followed his father and sister, he wondered what Skyshadow had meant.

_“I won’t tell you where mother is because you aren’t supposed to know.”_

He frowned deeply. Somehow, his tricksy sister knew where their mother was. And what had happened to her.

There had to be a reason she wouldn’t tell him.

The look in her optics whenever he asked told him it wasn’t because of spite or revenge for something.

There was something deeper and darker to the mystery surrounding their mother.

Iron Blade began to wonder how much their father knew.

And if either he or his sister would ever reveal to him the great big secret it was.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Skyshadow scares and worries more mecha, Iron Blade is further frustrated, and Soundwave is a nerd.

“You have him in the medbay?”

“Of course, we have him in the medbay!” Iron Blade stared at his sister incredulously. “Do you Autobots think we are so barbaric as to just throw him in the brig with all the injuries I found him with?”

Ironshadow gave his son a look.

Skyshadow whirled to face him, an unreadable expression on her faceplate.

“You found him?”

“Uh, yes?”

“Come on, you two,” Ironshadow said quickly. He pushed the button on the door panel and entered the medbay.

Breakdown was lying on a nearby berth and Knockout was nearby, organizing his tools.

Both looked up as they noticed the newcomer.

Knockout smiled up at the mech. “Ironshadow, what brings you- “

The medic paused as Skyshadow and Iron Blade followed the Vosian captain into his realm.

“Here.”

Breakdown narrowed his optics at the Autobot but said nothing.

Ironshadow gestured with a hand to the femme behind him. “Skyshadow is searching for a comrade. I believe you have him in the back?”

Recovering from his surprise, Knockout nodded. “Yes, but he still in stasis.”

“I’m aware,” Skyshadow said quickly. Placing hands on her hips, she turned to the medic. “I presume that you’ve been taking care of him since Iron Blade brought him here. What is his condition?”

Knockout had been trying not to flinch under the assassin’s cold stare, but the question immediately resumed his professional attitude.

“Sideswipe was heavily injured. He suffered a blow to the back of his helm, likely first, knocking him out. Among many other dents and stab wounds, he has a rather grievous wound on his chestplate.

“I was rather concerned about that one, since it was deep, but it didn’t make it to his spark chamber.

“Despite not regaining consciousness yet, I believe he will make a full recovery.”

Seeing that the medic was finished, Skyshadow nodded approvingly. “I would like to see him for myself.”

“Of course,” Knockout replied, gesturing for her to follow.

Iron Blade frowned, even as he also followed.

_“Everyone is acting like they forget she is a huge threat,”_ he thought.

Although, he figured that Breakdown was showing a healthy amount of concern.

Iron Blade knew his sister was often underestimated. He also knew what damage she could do.

Knockout opened the door to a small room at the back, made for patients that needed to be quarantined or kept in intensive care.

Or if there was an injured prisoner held here that the rest of the ship didn’t know about.

Skyshadow brushed by the medic, entering the room silently. Once she saw the green and black frontliner laying on the medical berth, her hard expression softened.

Stepping closer to stand next to the berth, she seemed to forget the rest of the mechs were still present.

“Sideswipe,” she murmured softly, reaching out to touch his helm. “What have they done to you?”

Just as Knockout had said, the frontliner was recovering from many wounds all over his frame.

Skyshadow furrowed her optic ridges as she moved her hand to hover over the large healing wound on Sideswipe’s chest.

The Decepticon medic had removed the Autobot seeker’s chest armour, which Skyshadow noticed was being stored on a table nearby. It had a large chunk of it missing, right where it would rest above the wound on the injured mech’s torso.

Immediately, Skyshadow recognized what sort of weapon had done this.

“Iron Blade,” she said, not turning away from Sideswipe. Her tone was calm, but cold as ice. “You said you were the one who found and rescued him?”

The warrior scientist nodded, still keeping an optic on her. “Yes.” He straightened, lifting his chin. “Singlehandedly I might add.”

“Did you see anyone else around?”

“No. I told you, it was just me.”

Skyshadow gave him a look, then turned back to the injured Autobot.

“Are you certain?”

Iron Blade let out a loud huff, crossing his servos across his chest. “Yes. I even scanned the area with my scanner. And it can pick up anyone and anything.”

The assassin frowned, scanning Sideswipe’s injuries once more. “His twin says he was near death soon after he was attacked. I find it hard to believe that you found him after his attackers had vacated completely.”

“Well, I assure you, there was no one else there,” growled Iron Blade.

Skyshadow stiffened, then slowly turned her helm to look over her shoulder at him.

“Does your scanner pick up cloaking devices?”

“Well of course not,” the warrior scientist snapped. “Not much can combat cloaking technology. Some devices my scanner will pick up if they’re low quality. Since the scanner has to go over it, it sometimes will pick up a difference in the landscape.

“You as a special operative should know that.”

His sister chose not to reply, narrowing her optics as she thought.

After several kliks, the silence became awkward.

“Ahem,” coughed Knockout from the doorway. “Does the lady intend to stay or- “

Ironshadow gestured for the medic to be quiet, then shrugged.

“I do not,” Skyshadow replied, having heard the medic. She turned, eyeing all three mechs in turn.

“I will leave, but trust me when I say this,” she warned, tone icy.

“I will return immediately if Sideswipe’s condition declines. And it will be a bloodbath.”

Passing Iron Blade, she strode towards the door.

“And how will you know?” Iron Blade sneered. “Or how will you know where our ship is? You’re bluffing.”

Skyshadow paused momentarily, glancing back at him.

“Are you willing to risk that, Iron Blade?”

“Look,” Knockout interrupted, boldly stepping into the assassin’s path. “We will take care of your friend. You have my word as a medic.”

“I’m not certain how that’s supposed to be comforting except for the fact that you’re totally different than our own CMO.”

Knockout frowned, arching an optic ridge. “Thank you? I suppose.

“Anyways, as I was saying, there is no reason to return. We will release your friend when he has recovered.”

Skyshadow looked up at the mech and gave him a small, sharp smile. “You misunderstand, good doctor. I intend to return either way.”

Dodging him, she continued on her way. “Father, do I have safe passage, or do I need to sneak out?”

Ironshadow sighed, following her out into the main part of the medbay. “I will send a message to the rest of the troops. You will not be fired upon, unless you make a hostile move.”

“Thank you. Tell your mecha that I will honour that agreement as long as they themselves return the courtesy.”

Iron Blade hurried to his father and grabbed his shoulder, halting him. In a low whisper, he spoke.

“Dad, we can’t just let her go free. What will Megatron say?”

“I will deal with Megatron, my son,” Ironshadow whispered back. “He will understand once I explain my reasoning.

“But- “

Ironshadow sent him a stern look and he quieted. “We cannot risk the others, Iron Blade. You know your sister as I do.”

As Skyshadow passed by the medical berth that Breakdown was resting on, she paused, feeling his stare. A sly smirk graced her faceplate as she turned her helm to look down at him.

“I hope you recover quickly, Breakdown,” she said smoothly. “Bulkhead misses beating you up.”

Breakdown scoffed, scowling up at the petite assassin. “I’ve only been down for one day.”

“I know. But he’s already been complaining.”

Moving on, she paused again before exiting the medbay. Glancing over her shoulder, she smirked.

“See you all soon.”

As soon as the door has closed behind her and she was out of hearing range, Knockout spoke up.

“Does anyone else get a chill when she’s around?”

“Shut up, Knockout,” grouched Breakdown.

Suddenly, the four mechs heard music playing from the speakers out in the corridor.

“Is that?” Knockout said, pointing towards the door.

Iron Blade placed a hand over his faceplate and groaned. “Yes. Soundwave is playing the Imperial March from Star Wars.”

“I mean, it’s sort of fitting,” Knockout shrugged. “They all know she’s coming. Ironshadow sent out a message about her.”

Iron Blade shot a glare towards the medic as Ironshadow shook his helm and left the medbay.

“I must go and explain to Megatron,” the Vosian captain said dryly. “Please see to my son’s wound, doctor.”

“Will do.” Knockout smirked. “Have fun with that, Captain. Let me know how it goes.”

* * *

“So. What did you want to talk about?”

Sunstreaker glanced towards the special operative and frowned.

The place that Steeldust had taken them, a passageway located in a part of the base’s walls, was likely one perhaps only he and maybe some of the other ops knew about. Therefore, it should be a safe spot to talk.

However, it was a little on the squishy side in Sunstreaker’s opinion.

While it seemed no problem to Steeldust as long as he minded his doorwings, Sunstreaker was a fair bit taller and broader than the lanky mech.

But if this was where he could talk freely about his twin, then he’d bear it.

Shifting in place, Sunstreaker began in low tones.

“Sideswipe was ambushed, but I don’t know who it was. I don’t think he even knows maybe.”

“Okay,” Steeldust said, narrowing his optics. “I’m guessing you know that cause of your twin bond thing. If he’s not dead, then where is he?”

“On the Decepticon ship, I think. Badly injured still from what I can tell.”

“Wait, what? Why would they want to capture him? No offence to your brother, but why not go for Smokescreen if they wanted a seeker?” Steeldust asked bluntly.

Sunstreaker looked away for a moment.

“I’m not sure that they captured him. Or ambushed him.”

Steeldust blinked several times, furrowing his optic ridges. Then, realization hit him.

“Wait- You don’t think they- Rescued him. Do you?”

The frontliner met the spec op’s gaze again, optics hard.

“I have my suspicions.”

“Why would one of our own attack Sideswipe?” hissed Steeldust. “It had to be the ‘Cons.”

“It might be,” said Sunstreaker. “But I don’t know.”

Steeldust looked at him incredulously for a moment, then flinched as he thought of something.

“Wait- “

“What is it?” Sunstreaker asked urgently.

“I think- I think you might be right.”

Sunstreaker leaned closer, a threatening tone to his voice. “What did you hear?”

Unconcerned, Steeldust carried on. “I was using the passageways the other week to move across the base. You know, cause I could. And I might have been avoiding someone.”

The frontliner gave him a look, which was ignored.

“Anyways, they aren’t exactly soundproof, and you can hear everything going on outside if you stand by the ventilation shafts and grates.

“I overheard Smokescreen and Prowl talking about someone they thought was having second thoughts about the Autobot cause. They didn’t say who, but now that I think about it, the other stuff they said would possibly match Sideswipe.”

Steeldust looked up at Sunstreaker in horror.

“They planned it. They planned to kill him.”

Sunstreaker grimly nodded. “But did they actually or did they send someone else to do it?”

Frowning, Steeldust began to pace a short distance back and forth down the passageway.

“I doubt they did it personally. They’re too high up to risk themselves,” he muttered quietly. “But it would have to be someone who would willingly do it, without much persuasion.”

He paused for a second, glancing over to the frontliner. “Who hates Sideswipe?

“And who out of that list would either be able to sneak up on him or have his trust that they wouldn’t stab him in the back?”

Sunstreaker narrowed his optics in thought about the questions.

“And,” Steeldust added, peering up at the taller mech, optics narrowed. “Skyshadow’s gone to find out whether or not he’s on the Nemesis, isn’t she.”

Returning the look, Sunstreaker fidgeted hesitantly.

Steeldust wouldn’t rat her out to the chain of command. Would he?

There was no point in lying to the agent. Steeldust might play dumb sometimes, but he was in reality, quite smart and very perceptive. He’d likely already noticed his fidgeting and hesitation.

Plus, he’d already suspected and figured that Sky had gone to the Decepticon ship.

Staring up at Sunstreaker, Steeldust’s expression turned from suspicion to a smug grin.

“I thought so. Sheesh, no wonder you’re so worried looking today, Sunshine.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, duh,” Steeldust shrugged, narrowly missing hitting his doorwings on the close walls as he did. “Your brother is missing and injured, someone tried to kill him. And your girlfriend is headed to or on the Decepticon ship looking for him. You got lots to be- “

“I know that,” hissed Sunstreaker, glaring at the rambling speedster. “I meant, oh never mind.”

“You meant how’d I know you were worried?” Steeldust asked smoothly, crossing his servos. “Mech, I may be a dimwit, but I can still read mecha. Especially ones I know well.

“You’ve-been-extra-fidgety-and-more-frowny-than-usual-and-you-have-worry-lines-on-your-forehelm-and-you-didn’t-even-blink-when-Wheeljack-almost-walked-into-you-on-our-way-here. Normally-you’d-at-least-growl-at-him. Or-at-most-beat-him-into-a-pulp-for-almost-scratching-your-finish.

“Also-you-do-have-a-scratch-on-your-finish-there-on-your-servo-which-threw-me-for-a-loop-at-first-when-you-came-to-bail-me-out-of-the-box-earlier. Usually-you-fix-stuff-like-that-right-away-but-now-I-know-you’re-focused-on-and-concerned-about-bigger-problems-than-a-teeny-scratch.

“And-you-completely-missed-when-I-just-called-you-Sunshine. Which-you-only-let-your-brother-and-girlfriend-call-you-and-still-grumble-about-it.”

Steeldust finally shut up from his whispered, very long, very fast explanation and gazed expectantly at Sunstreaker waiting for a reply.

The frontliner stood, frozen, optics wide.

The spec ops slapped himself in the faceplate.

“Great,” he muttered into his hand. “I broke him.”

Regaining his composure, Sunstreaker glowered down at the annoyance he’d asked for help.

“I do not have worry lines, and yes I have a small, tiny scratch on my armour!” he yelled.

“And do you even breath when you talk that fast?”

Steeldust glared out from between his digits, hand still covering his faceplate.

“Nice. Anyone walking by now knows we’re somewhere around. Maybe even in the wall.”

Sunstreaker, who was about to say more, clamped his mouth shut and glared as the ops moved further into the passageway.

“Come on,” came the whispered hiss. “We gotta move in case someone heard you and gets nosy.

“Cause if we’re right about what happened to ‘Swipes, we’d be in a whole lot of trouble if we get caught talking about it.”

* * *

Optimus Prime tapped his digits on the arm of his throne.

Something was not right in his kingdom.

There were in fact, many things that were wrong, but most of them he had approved of.

Or simply turned a blind eye to.

But he could feel that there was something or someone, about to start something.

He didn’t know what and that made him angry.

“SMOKESCREEN!” the false prime roared.

The twin bodyguards by the door didn’t even flinch. But then they were used to the bellowing of their leader.

He yelled at his various underlings at least twice a day.

Shortly, the sneaky seeker leader entered the room, dropping in a bow before the Prime.

Leaning forward, the warmonger glared at the young mech.

“Smokescreen,” he said smoothly. “What news do you have for me?”

Taking the question as permission to rise, the Praxian stood, a calm smile on his faceplate.

“My Lord,” he began, dipping his helm. “All is well. No one is misbehaving, well, except for a very short-lived bar fight. But Ironhide dealt with that quickly as always and nothing more came of it. No energon shed.”

Frowning, Optimus settled back into his throne. “And what of the patrols? Have they found anything of interest?”

Smokescreen tilted his helm in thought. “No. Nothing since Blurr and his brother’s victorious find of all that energon from the Decepticon mine yesterday, my Lord. No signals have been picked up here on our base’s scanners either.”

“Very well,” the Prime rumbled, somewhat satisfied.

“Tell me. How did that brat react to getting out of his box so soon?”

Smokescreen shifted in place, flicking a doorwing before answering. “He was involved in the bar fight earlier actually. But disappeared shortly after with Sunstreaker. Haven’t seen him since.”

Optimus laughed loudly. “The little fool never learns a thing, does he? At least he’s probably bewildered at being free so soon. We’ll see how long it keeps him quiet.”

“I must say, your methods are interesting, my Lord,” snickered Smokescreen. “Quite amusing in fact.”

“Ah, I almost forgot. How is our dear medic’s latest patient?”

Sending Optimus a knowing look, Smokescreen grinned sadistically. “The Vehicon miner brought back last week? I haven’t seen him, but I have been assured by Ratchet himself that he’s taking quite good care of him.”

Ricochet and Jazz snickered quietly from their posts by the door.

“Of course, he is,” replied the prime, a wicked grin on his own faceplate.

“Anything else you wish to tell me?”

“No, Lord Prime,” Smokescreen replied.

“Very well. You may leave.”

Smokescreen bowed once more with a sly grin, then turned and left the throne room.

Optimus watched him leave. As soon as he’d left, his smirk turned into a frown.

“He’s up to something,” he growled.

Jazz piped up, “He always is.”

“Send someone to watch him for the next few days,” Optimus commanded. “I don’t care who.”

The white and black bodyguard crossed his servos, grin wide with wicked mischief.

“Ah know just who ta send.”

* * *

Skyshadow landed in a neat crouch, scanning the area again as she straightened.

Nothing living in sight.

Of course, her keen audios picked up the birds and insects in the nearby trees bordering the small clearing in the woods. A pair of squirrels chattered at each other, likely fighting over food.

But Skyshadow was not here for the nature.

Stepping carefully, she examined the ground around her.

Luckily, the area was somewhat sheltered from the elements by the nearby trees. And it hadn’t rained since before the ambush happened.

So, there may still be some evidence for her to examine.

Signs of a scuffle, although very short lived by the look of it, was not very far from one of the edges of the clearing.

Upon reaching the area, she knelt to get a better look.

Several clear pedesteps, including ones that belonged to her older brother, gave some clues.

And confirmed at least part of Iron Blade’s story. He’d been here and picked up Sideswipe.

Further examining of the scene revealed to her a few more things.

Sideswipe had been attacked from behind, which she’d already known from his twin.

And he had drawn energon from his attacker judging by the small splatters leading away from the large patch where he’d been left for dead.

Skyshadow frowned.

“Who was in the medbay that day I wonder?”

Although, if it wasn’t a bad wound, depending who the culprit was, they could repair themselves.

She had an idea of how to confirm that.

But first she needed to narrow her suspects down.

Iron Blade had claimed to have used his scanner upon locating Sideswipe. Anyone in the area within the scanner’s range would have been picked up.

From his injuries and Sunstreaker’s report, Sideswipe would not have lasted very long without medical attention. For Iron Blade to been able to successfully get him to help in time, it was almost impossible for the attacker to have already vacated before he’d arrived.

Skyshadow didn’t believe that her brother would lie to her. Not about this anyways.

Narrowing her optics, she looked around once more, then leaped into the sky. Transforming, she headed towards the Autobot base.

She knew what sort of weapon had dealt Sideswipe most of his injuries.

Definitely a blade, likely either a sword or a long dagger.

According to Sunstreaker, his twin had been hit in the helm from behind, knocking him out.

Apparently, they cut him up after that.

There were several Autobots and a couple Decepticons that commonly used blades with enough skill to quickly subdue a seeker after sneaking up on them.

She also knew that there were several possibilities to why Iron Blade hadn’t picked up their presence.

One, the mecha had been shielded.

Two, they were faster than the average mecha and were already out of range.

Or three, which she doubted, that Iron Blade himself had done it and he had lied.

Skyshadow had a list. She could try to see if she could logically narrow it down on her way home.

There were mecha in both factions that met the criteria that she could see attacking Sideswipe.

Both Starscream and Iron Blade might, but they were too honourable to, cowardly as they might put it, ambush someone from behind.

Other Decepticons might too, but they didn’t fit so well. Either because of lack of stealth or lack of skill with a blade.

Or it simply did not make sense to stab someone if you could more effectively shoot him.

Which, most Decepticons, Skyshadow figured, were better shots than they were with most short-range weapons.

Which is why the Autobots caused them so much trouble when they got in a crowd of the troopers.

But guns were not made for stealthily offing someone.

Ironically, Skyshadow had more Autobots on her list than Decepticons.

_“That’s not concerning at all,”_ she thought.

Both Cliffjumper and Mirage had a device or ability to cloak themselves from being detected.

Mirage, leader of the Autobot special operatives, definitely had the skill to have done it. If he’d been commanded to, he may have. But Mirage, unless he had to leave, would wait and ensure his target was dead before reporting a successful mission.

He may have been wary when Iron Blade showed up, aware of the Decepticon’s scanner.

Skyshadow severely doubted that it would be able to beat Mirage’s cloaking ability. He would too, but he also might play it safe just in case.

Cliffjumper might and would be very willing to have tried to take Sideswipe out, perhaps even without an order. Also, he was too cocky and may not have bothered to see if he’d really killed Sideswipe.

That would be a good reason as to why Sideswipe was still alive.

Blurr, Steeldust, and the Decepticon Drag Strip, were all fast enough to have possibly been able to get away before Iron Blade’s scanner could reach them.

Inwardly, Skyshadow frowned at that thought.

As far as she knew, Drag Strip didn’t have any personal rivalry with Sideswipe. With Steeldust, definitely, but not the frontliner. Not much of a motive there.

And another thing, it was hard for Skyshadow to believe that it was logical for the Decepticons to try and rescue an Autobot they’d tried to kill. Especially one of the notorious seekers.

Also, most seekers, past and present, were loyal to each other. Blurr was an unlikely suspect as he would be more loyal to the others than not.

Unless he was commanded and had no other choice. But then why wouldn’t he have finished his fellow seeker? If his mission failed, then he would know it’d come back to bite him.

Skyshadow hoped that it was not the remaining suspect.

Not only was Steeldust a fellow spec op, he was also a friend. Not to mention, he was Sideswipe’s friend.

But also, very skilled with a blade.

That he happened to have in abundance.

And he didn’t seem to be afraid of possible consequences anymore. Which he would face leaving Sideswipe alive if he’d been sent to kill him.

She knew Steeldust.

He was efficient. If you were in his target zone, you became dead as long as he had the ability to kill you.

Unless he wanted you left online to play with you another day.

Which was what she suspected had happened to Breakdown, judging by the healing stab wounds she knew came from Steeldust’s weapons.

If Steeldust had done this to Sideswipe, then it meant he was intentionally left alive.

For his own amusement or to save his so-called friend, Skyshadow didn’t know.

“ _If_ it was him,” she reminded herself firmly. “But I can’t afford to remove him from the list until I’m certain.”

She hoped it wasn’t one of the Autobots to begin with, and not a special operative.

But she hoped it hadn’t been Steeldust the most out of her list.

That would mean he’d betrayed a friend. Or someone who’d thought they were a friend.

And if it was him, Skyshadow prayed that he’d had no other choice.

No one was safe from doing Optimus Prime’s bidding if he held something over you.

Not even if he hated your guts.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there are even deeper underlying secrets.

“Ah need ya ta keep an eye on someone.”

Goldbug had almost jumped when the bodyguard had suddenly appeared out of the shadows beside him.

“Who?” he asked in a hiss.

It was best not to question why Jazz was telling him what to do. Either he would tell you unprompted, or he wouldn’t.

Plus, even though he wasn’t a commanding officer, he held quite a bit of rank with his position.

That included it seemed, personal messenger of their leader sometimes.

Jazz grinned as if internally laughing at some joke.

“Prime wants ya ta keep an eye on ol’ Smokey for a while,” he whispered.

Goldbug furrowed his optics ridges. “Why? He’s head seeker.”

“He’s a sneaky head seeker,” the bodyguard replied. “Optimus is suspicious. Ah figured ya might want the job.”

The short mech shrugged, dropping his grin. “If not, Ah’m sure someone else ‘d like the extra favour with the big boss. After all, Ah hear he’s still lookin’ fo’ a third seeker. Ya know, wit’ Sideswipe bein’ gone.”

Nodding his helm quickly, Goldbug replied. “I’ll do it. Should I report to you or to Optimus Prime directly? And how long?”

“Better report ta me an’ Ah’ll pass it along,” drawled Jazz, already walking away. “An’ Ah’ll tell ya when he wants ya ta quit.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll get started right away.”

The scout hurried off, heading to where he figured Smokescreen might be.

Jazz meanwhile sauntered back to the throne room. This would be interesting.

But hey, how else was he supposed to be kept entertained? Ricochet only provided so much entertainment and you couldn’t constantly entertain yourself.

As he walked down a certain hall, he suddenly felt like he was being watched.

Not that it bothered him. So he didn’t bother glancing up into the nearby vent grate he knew was there.

And so, he didn’t notice the two pairs of red optics watching him.

Or when one pair moved, shortly by the second pair, which lingered until the bodyguard was out of sight.

* * *

“So, let me get this straight, Captain Ironshadow,” the Decepticon leader said, a confused expression on his faceplate.

“You not only allowed an intruding Autobot to go free after being captured, but allowed her to later have free range of the ship, sending a command to all troops to stand down and refrain from apprehending her?”

Ironshadow stood in front of Megatron on the command bridge, servos crossed behind his back, regal as any Vosian could look. Calmly, he nodded once before replying.

“Sir, I only took such actions as they were best.”

Megatron rose an optic ridge. “I fail to see how letting a highly skilled Autobot assassin have the run of our ship, our home, was the best course of action, Ironshadow.”

Well aware of the audios of several nosy troopers listening in on their conversation, the Vosian captain continued regardless.

After all, it was their right to know just as much as Megatron’s.

“I would not have done what I did if I thought I had any better options, Sir.”

Starscream, who had been standing off to the side, along with Soundwave, spoke up then.

“Ironshadow, you say Iron Blade had Skyshadow captured. Why not simply take her to the brig immediately?”

“She probably has loads of info on the Autobots, dude,” added Soundwave exuberantly.

“Soundwave is correct. We could have interrogated her.”

Ironshadow shook his helm, a grave expression on his faceplate as he turned his gaze to the two mechs.

“My friends, while I agree that Skyshadow has a wealth of useful information about her faction, I had no other choice. She was only here for knowledge of her missing comrade’s well-being.

“And how long do you think we’d be able to keep her imprisoned?”

All mechs were silent for several kliks.

Skyshadow had a reputation of being a very skilled escape artist.

“You may be correct, Ironshadow,” Megatron said, a hint of disapproval in his tone. “However, that does not explain or justify your choices this day.”

“Megatron,” Ironshadow said, his formerly calm voice revealing a slight hint of irritation. “You know what the alternative would have been.

“My daughter as you know is a very capable fighter.”

Starscream rose an optic ridge, crossing his servos. “And so is your oldest son. Who had her captured.”

“While that is true, dear friend,” replied the older Vosian. “I do not know that they are as evenly matched as they once were. And while Iron Blade may possibly be the more skilled at combat- “

The Armada captain shook his helm once more, looking out at the sky through the giant window at the end of the bridge.

“I fear that my wayward daughter is too unpredictable to trust not to take drastic measures to escape her brother. And while he knows that, he would not be prepared to take similar action.”

“So Skyshadow fights dirty sometimes,” Soundwave said with a shrug. “She’s a wild card, yeah. But we could still take her.”

“And risk the troops?”

Megatron interjected. “You believe that if Skyshadow was not permitted to see the Autobot Sideswipe, she would have taken- More drastic measures to find him anyways?”

“That is what I fear,” Ironshadow replied soberly. He turned his helm back to look at the Decepticon leader.

“Though Iron Blade and I still share a bond with Skyshadow, neither of us have been able to predict her or tell what her motives are for many vorns. If pushed, she will not show restraint.”

“I understand,” Megatron said, tone mirroring his captain’s. “I apologize for doubting you, Ironshadow.”

“No reason to apologize, Megatron. Your concerns were well founded.”

“What do you suggest we do then, Father?”

All four mechs involved in the conversation, along with the eavesdropping troopers, turned at the new voice.

Iron Blade leaned against the door frame, scowling.

His gaze was directed at Ironshadow alone as he spoke again.

“What do we do when my sister returns for her friend?”

Megatron and Starscream exchanged a look before turning back to the Vosian captain.

The mech had turned fully towards the window, gazing out into the cloud filled sky.

“We will be ready,” he said quietly. “And hopefully, Sideswipe will have recovered enough to return to the Autobots with her.”

* * *

Skyshadow sent Sunstreaker an internal comm the moment she reached the base.

_“I’m back. If you have a few minutes, I need to talk to you.”_

Relieved that she’d made it back, seemingly, and hopefully safe, Sunstreaker replied instantly.

_“How’s ‘Sides? Are you okay? I have to go on patrol in a few kliks, you can come with me.”_

_“He’s as well as can be expected. I’m fine. I’ll meet you by the exit.”_

Sunstreaker was about to close the comm, but he sent one more message first.

_“I’m glad you got back safe.”_

Steeldust, having noticed that Sunstreaker was talking over an internal comm when his optics dimmed slightly, was waiting silently for him to finish.

The frontliner glanced down at him, then spoke.

“I have to go.”

With a quick nod, Steeldust asked, “She’s back?”

“Yes. And I have to go on patrol anyways.”

Putting his audio to the wall, the ops listened for a few kliks. Then, he straightened again.

“There’s no one out there. You should be good to get out of the passageways here.”

Sunstreaker nodded. “Thank you for you help. I’ll be in touch later. We’ll see what Skyshadow says about Sideswipe and go from there.”

“Sounds good. See ya, mech,” Steeldust replied, pressing a hand onto a section of the wall. The section opened and was swiftly pushed aside to make an opening big enough for Sunstreaker to squeeze out.

“I’m gonna do some snooping around myself,” the speedster continued, gesturing for Sunstreaker to leave first.

“Okay.”

Sunstreaker poked his helm out into the hallway, and seeing that Steeldust had been correct that no one was there, exited the hidden passage quickly. The red and black coloured speedster followed, reaching to tap what the frontliner assumed was a hidden panel in the wall, closing the opening.

How the ops ‘bot just knew exactly where all the hidden panels for the passageways where, Sunstreaker had no idea. They were very well hidden.

He figured it must just come with his job.

Or his snooping around.

With one more nod of appreciation, Sunstreaker walked off, heading towards the communications room of the base.

Steeldust raised a hand in a wave, then settled against the wall near where they’d just emerged from.

As he watched the frontliner, his optics narrowed into almost slits. Crossing his servos, he frowned.

Then, after Sunstreaker had disappeared around a corner, he moved into the center of the hallway.

With a running start, Steeldust directed himself towards the wall not far down the corridor. Speeding up as he reached it, the young mech simply changed direction and ran up the side of the wall. Once he was high enough, he pushed off with both pedes, reaching out with his servos and grabbing the beam above.

Swinging himself upwards, he landed atop the beam with a smirk.

After crouching there for several astrokliks, considering, he moved again. Leaping silently from beam to beam, Steeldust made his way down the hallway, everyone below oblivious to his passing journey above their helms.

It was a very effective way of moving unseen throughout the base. All security cameras were placed below the beams and missed catching Steeldust completely if he ran up the wall in one of their blind spots.

Which any special operative knew the locations of such blind spots. There was one in every spot a hidden passage entrance and exit was.

That knowledge was very useful for when you wished to sneak around without the knowledge of anyone else.

* * *

Iron Blade sat in the lab, twirling the dagger his sister had dropped.

_“What did she mean about Carrier?”_

The young mech barely glanced up when someone walked in.

“Your sister’s?” Ironshadow inquired quietly as he approached.

“Yes.”

The Armada Captain picked up one of the other chairs and set it nearby. Taking a seat, he leaned forward, resting his elbow joints on his knees.

“I know you are upset with me, Iron Blade,” he began lowly. “And I understand why.

“I too, wish to see you carrier again, but I can assure you, Skyshadow will not tell us her whereabouts. However, we must be comforted in the fact that she is alive and well.”

“Why won’t she tell us, Dad?” Iron Blade asked angrily, setting the knife down on the workbench with a loud clatter. “I know she knows. But I can’t figure out why she won’t tell me.”

Ironshadow was silent for several kliks.

“Tell me, Iron Blade, would you trust your siblings to do you no harm?”

“Bumblebee? No way,” scoffed Iron Blade, crossing his servos. “He’s long gone, Dad.”

Ironshadow hummed in agreement, faceplate sad. “He fell very quickly, didn’t he?”

Nodding, Iron Blade glanced away. “As soon as he joined the Autobots, I knew I couldn’t trust him not to try and kill us.”

“I knew it too, though it hurts to say it. What he is now is not the son I once knew.”

“A pity,” agreed the younger mech. “He used to be so full of life and brought a smile to everyone’s faceplate. Now, he’s one of the false prime’s favourites for his wickedness.”

“And what about your sister?”

Iron Blade shook his helm. “I used to think she still wouldn’t hurt me. Not badly anyways.”

“But now?” Ironshadow prompted.

“I don’t know,” said Iron Blade quietly. “She’s gotten worse. I can’t confidently say she wouldn’t kill me anymore.”

“But you aren’t sure if she’s turned dark enough to kill you,” supplied the older mech.

“Yeah.”

Ironshadow stood, moving to place a hand on his eldest child’s shoulder. Iron Blade looked up to meet his gaze.

“Though I hope I am wrong, Iron Blade, I fear she may have,” Ironshadow spoke gravely. “Or is very close to. Desperation drives mecha to do things you and they themselves would never imagine they’d do.

“But if I am correct in thinking, Skyshadow is being driven by desperation. And she has been from the beginning of the war. Your sister, I must remind you, didn’t join the Autobots until after we joined the Decepticons. And after Bumblebee joined the Autobots.”

“You still think she joined the Autobots because of him,” Iron Blade said, agreeing with the statement.

Ironshadow shrugged, flicking a wingtip. “I believe that was part of it.”

Iron Blade narrowed his optics. “But there’s something more to it, isn’t there?”

“That may be why she’s fallen so far, Iron Blade. I hate to tell you this, but you must be prepared to take more drastic measures with Skyshadow.”

Iron Blade watched his sire, noting that as he spoke, his sorrowful expression made him look older than he was.

He was reminded of how much his sire had gone through. How much he had lost.

“I hoped this day would never come, Iron Blade, but the war and choices that cannot be undone have made it so,” continued Ironshadow soberly. “When families are divided between factions, to this point, we also must choose.

“I know that your code of honour dictates otherwise, but I ask you to sincerely think about this.”

Iron Blade closes his optics and turned his helm away. “I know what you are about to tell me, Father. I agree to think about it.”

Ironshadow grimaced, placing a hand on Iron Blade’s shoulder again.

“I have already lost one son, and have almost completely lost my daughter. I cannot bear to lose another child to this war that has taken the other two.”

“And a sparkmate,” added Iron Blade quietly. He opened his optics, but kept his helm turned away. “I will try and do as you ask.”

Ironshadow nodded, stepping away and turning to leave. “Forgive me, Iron Blade. I do not want to see any of you three die, but you are the only one I truly have left.”

“I do, Dad. And I understand,” Iron Blade replied, watching his sire leave.

After he’d gone, the warrior scientist glanced back at the knife on his workbench.

He knew his sire was right.

If it came to it, he might have to injure, or even kill his sister. If only to prevent her from doing the same to him.

War was a horrid thing. Turning mecha against mecha, splitting families either by death or faction, destroying whole planets.

Iron Blade banged a fist on the workbench’s surface and let out a low growl.

He couldn’t let anyone else fall prey to the false prime’s greed and evil.

But he didn’t know if he could stop it.

* * *

Sunstreaker stepped into the communications room, nodding shortly to the mech on monitor duty.

Blades, a hulking forty-foot-tall mech who transformed into a giant transport plane nodded back.

The frontliner kept on optic on the Wrecker even as he scanned the room.

_“She’s probably waiting to try and sneak out when Blades isn’t looking,”_ he thought.

“I need a bridge,” Sunstreaker said shortly, walking towards the groundbridge tunnel.

Checking the schedule quickly, Blades quirked an optic ridge. “Patrol by yourself today?”

“No, I’m accompanying,” replied a feminine voice.

Sunstreaker smirked as a familiar lithe figure stepped out of the shadowy corner behind Blades.

Who had jumped in surprise.

Recovering quickly, Blades grimaced. “Turning a patrol into a date, are we?”

Skyshadow shrugged lightly. “I suppose.”

Neither brought up the fact that it was common for Prowl to schedule ‘bots on patrol by themself.

Sunstreaker crossed his servos. “Can we go now?”

“Of course,” Skyshadow said, sending him a smile. She turned to Blades.

“Would you be a dear and set the bridge’s coordinates to wherever Sunstreaker is supposed to be patrolling?”

The giant Wrecker nodded and after carefully typing in the coordinates listed on the schedule, pulled the lever down for the bridge to activate.

As the familiar swirling colours came to life, Skyshadow walked over to Sunstreaker. Looking up at him she slipped her hand into his.

“Ready?”

The frontliner nodded with a small smile and they walked through, hand in hand.

After they were gone, Blades shut off the groundbridge.

“Yuck. Love,” he grunted, turning his attention back to the monitors.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the groundbridge, Sunstreaker and Skyshadow began their patrol.

Luckily for them, Sunstreaker had gotten a shift located in an unpopulated area of the northern United States. As such, the weather was neither cold or hot and a nice breeze flowed through the forest.

The sun was setting, casting long shadows where it could reach through the thick foliage.

“Are you alright?” Sunstreaker asked, looking his girlfriend over again. “Did they catch you?”

Skyshadow couldn’t help but give him a light smirk. “You really are a big softie sometimes, you know that? I’m fine, Sunny.”

Sunstreaker frowned slightly at the nickname, but didn’t say anything about it.

“And Sideswipe?” he asked hesitantly.

Skyshadow stopped, turning to face him, Sunstreaker copying her.

“As you know, he’s pretty badly injured,” she began quietly. “But he’s obviously alive, and like you said, in stasis. He should make a full recovery.”

Although he felt relief, Sunstreaker was still uneasy. “But how are we going to get him off the Decepticons’ ship? I can’t fly up there like you can. You’d have to bridge me from their command bridge.”

He watched as the black and purple femme glanced away, as if studying something he could not see.

“Sky?”

“I don’t know if that’s the best plan, Sunstreaker,” she replied, biting her lower lip. “Sideswipe shouldn’t be moved right now.”

“But we can’t leave him with the ‘Cons,” protested Sunstreaker, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “We have to bring him home.”

“We will,” Sky assured, turning back to him and placing a hand on his arm. “But Sunny, Sideswipe is safe there. They’re taking care of him.”

Sunstreaker stared down at her, frowning deeply. “Like Ratchet?”

“No, like a real medic.” Skyshadow shook her helm. “Not like Ratchet.”

“You’re lying,” hissed Sunstreaker, crossing his servos. “They wouldn’t do that. They wouldn’t take care of an Autobot, especially a seeker.”

Skyshadow’s expression changed to one of hurt, but she lifted her chin. “I’m not lying. Their medic is taking good care of him. And he promised he would continue to do so.”

“Heh. You lie to everyone don’t you.”

“Not to you. Never to you,” Skyshadow whispered, looking away.

Sunstreaker’s expression softened and he moved forward. Wrapping his arms around Skyshadow, he rested his helm on hers.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I shouldn’t have said that. I do believe you.”

Skyshadow returned the embrace. “It’s okay. I know you’re scared for Sideswipe.”

She drew back then, looking up to meet his optics. “There’s something you should know. A few things actually.”

Sunstreaker took her hands in his and waited.

“I don’t know if it was a Decepticon that took Sideswipe out,” Skyshadow said in a whisper.

“We already suspected that,” he whispered back.

“I know. But with what injuries Sides’ has, it makes me think we are right in our suspicions. Plus, I went to where it happened.”

“So did I,” Sunstreaker said, reminding her of what he’d told her before. “There were three sets of pede prints, one scuffed beyond recognition, and one Sideswipe’s.”

“Yes. But the other clear set belongs to my brother.”

Sunstreaker frowned. “Your brother? Iron Blade? What was he doing there?”

“Before you jump to conclusions, he told me he was the one who’d found Sideswipe and brought him back to their ship,” Skyshadow shook her helm. “He has no reason to lie about that. And it makes our suspicion of an Autobot attacking Sideswipe make even more sense.”

“No Decepticon would attack and almost kill an Autobot just to rescue him,” concluded Sunstreaker, his frown growing deeper.

“Also, Iron Blade told me he had scanned the area with his fancy scanner and picked up no one. With how injured and close to death Sideswipe was, that means either our mecha was shielded or fast enough to get out of range,” continued Skyshadow.

“What was the weapon that caused the injuries?”

“Definitely a blade for most of them. Looks like whoever did it kicked him around a bit too.”

“That’s what the prints looked like where it happened,” growled Sunstreaker. “Cloaking device would mean Cliffjumper or Mirage.”

“And fast enough to get out of Iron Blade’s scanner’s range would be Drag Strip, Blurr, or Steeldust.”

Sunstreaker frowned at certain mecha’s inclusion on the list. “My number one suspect there is Cliffjumper. He’s the only one on that list that hates Sideswipe. For some reason. The rest aren’t good suspects for motive.

“Except maybe Drag Strip. But it doesn’t make sense that Iron Blade would rescue him then.”

Skyshadow replied, “I agree with you, but I don’t think we can cancel the other three Autobots out just yet, as much as I hate to think it was anyone of them. It makes things messy and I don’t know what to do with Sideswipe if it was an Autobot.”

“Do we have any evidence that says otherwise?” Sunstreaker asked, remembering what Steeldust had said he’d overheard that potentially pointed to an order from command.

Then, he thought of something that made his energon run cold. His optics widened.

Skyshadow didn’t notice as she was looking away. “I’m not certain. But I have an idea of how to narrow down our suspects without resorting to interrogation.

“Did you see the spilled energon? I don’t think one patch was Sideswipe’s. He must have heard or felt someone before he got knocked out. We might be able to access medbay records to see if any of our mecha were there that day. Or figure out where they’d be injured and test our theory by sparring with them.”

Glancing up at Sunstreaker, Skyshadow noticed his expression.

A bad feeling settled in her tank. She frowned, hesitantly asking, “Sunny, what is it?”

Slowly, Sunstreaker met her concerned gaze.

“Is it Sideswipe?” Skyshadow asked, reaching up to place a hand on his face.

“No,” Sunstreaker said, voice hoarse. “What did you just say? About the mecha responsible being injured?”

Skyshadow shrugged, more concerned about her courted than the culprit at the moment. “I said Sideswipe might have got a hit in before going down. Why?”

Sunstreaker blanched, then turned away, covering his faceplate with a hand.

“Sunstreaker! What’s wrong?” Skyshadow said, moving in front of him again. She reached up and pulled his hand away. Her optics searched his faceplate desperately.

Grabbing Skyshadow’s hands with the one she was holding, Sunstreaker turned his attention back to her.

“I noticed Steeldust was injured when I was sent to let him out of the brig, but I didn’t ask. And he didn’t say what had happened when Blurr asked him later,” Sunstreaker said in a near whisper, optics wide. “He was limping.”

Skyshadow’s optics narrowed in consideration, but opened wide as her boyfriend continued.

“I asked him for his help,” Sunstreaker said hoarsely. “And he’s on the suspect list.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spying, scheming, and smuggling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steeldust, Skyshadow, and Arson are my oc's, Whirr, Blades, and Iron Blade are my brother's, who he kindly lets me borrow and checks to make sure they're in character.

As the officers gathered into the meeting room, none of them noticed a pair of optics watching from above.

The young spy perched on a beam above their helms, listening in.

As Mirage walked in, the spy froze, pressing further into his corner, hoping that his superior didn’t look up.

Or sense him there.

He had on other occasions, but not usually.

Steeldust wasn’t sure that Mirage really cared anyways. He figured the head ops considered it a second pair of optics and audios present.

Soon enough, all the chain of command was present and Optimus Prime straightened in his chair to begin.

“Thank you all for coming this evening,” he rumbled. He glanced to his right. “Prowl, start the reports.”

Ultra Magnus shot the current second-in-command a jealous glare from across the table, but turned away before the Prime could catch it.

Steeldust was certain he seen the Praxian smirk before he began speaking.

“As you know, my lord, myself and your third-in-command run a very strict schedule. Most of your troops are willing to accept our rules and obey them. The few who do not are punished accordingly.”

Up on the beam, Steeldust fidgeted.

“Were there any offences since the last meeting?” Optimus inquired, placing folded hands on the table as he leaned over to glance at Prowl’s datapad.

The Praxian nodded once and turned the datapad towards him.

“Yes. Two accounts of misconduct that included racing in the base by Hot Rod, Streetwise, and Bumblebee.

“Sunstreaker was involved in five brawls, two being bar fights and the other three were in the halls. Cliffjumper was involved in all five of them as well. Gears and Huffer were taken to the medbay as a result once while the other two visited the brig or were assigned cleanup duty each time.

“Steeldust was warned three times by various officers and you sentenced him to the brig three times. All for talking back I believe.”

Steeldust made himself sit still and keep his mouth closed at that.

Ironhide spoke up then from further down the table.

“I got something to add to that.”

Prowl simply nodded for him to go ahead.

“Didn’t get a chance to report to ya about today’s fight. Swerve was running his mouth and happened to be talking at the wrong time. Steeldust got involved and it resulted in a fight.”

“I believe Swerve started that one though,” Whirr said. “I was present for part of it, though I didn’t see it all.”

Ironhide glanced at the helicopter. “Yeah. Steeldust finished it though. With my permission.”

Optimus nodded. “Smokescreen already informed me of this instance. Is that all Prowl?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Magnus. Do you have anything to add?”

“No,” grumbled the large mech, sitting stiffly in his chair to the Prime’s left. “I believe Prowl updated everyone last orn on the energon status and mine raids, so there’s no need to go over that. Nothing has changed this orn.”

“Agreed. He’s very efficient,” Prime said smoothly, eyeing his top two commanders. “Very well. Ratchet. The medical report please.”

Steeldust tuned most of that one out.

Ratchet was a bit on the sadistic side, often ‘bots were sent to him as punishment as well as for treatment of injuries.

Which could turn out badly too. Hot Rod had woken up from repairs once to see his hand had been replaced with a saw. According to Ratchet, it was an improvement.

The spy shivered. He was glad he, like several others, could do most minor repairs himself. And had the option of another trained professional to go to for the rest.

Although, technically the mech wasn’t actually a medic. Just a scientist who knew a lot about many fields of science.

And probably wouldn’t try and figure out how to _improve_ you like Ratchet. Or enjoy dissecting you like the CMO’s young trainee, First Aid.

As Steeldust tuned out Ratchet’s report, he glanced around the rest of the room.

Several of the officers were doing the same as him. Others were listening, looking like they might be sick. Others didn’t even blink.

One officer in particular, however, caught Steeldust’s attention.

The head scientist, Whirr was sitting near the end of the long table. He had several sheets of blueprints in front of him, likely intending to present them when it was his turn.

What Steeldust could see of the blueprints looked like science gibberish to him.

But that wasn’t what had caught his attention.

Whirr was slightly fidgety, tapping his digits lightly on the table. Every few kliks, his optics darted towards the large clock mounted on the wall above Ultra Magnus’ helm.

Steeldust narrowed his optics. _“Why would Whirr be concerned about the time?”_

And the scientist was rarely ever fidgety. That was Steeldust.

Fidgety.

Sending a scowl at his own tapping digits, Steeldust stilled them, crossing his servos over his chest.

_“Maybe Whirr has a timer for one of his formulas or something,”_ he thought. _“Hopefully nothing that could explode.”_

Although, bombs and explosions were usually more Wheeljack’s gig. Or that Decepticon Vosian, Arson.

_“I don’t think that’s it.”_

Steeldust moved his attention back to the meeting when they moved on to Red Alert’s report.

It always amused him just how much Red missed because of all the camera blind spots.

Not to mention all the times that Mirage or one of his spec ops hacked and edited the camera feed.

Either for practice or necessary reasons.

Steeldust’s optics flicked towards Mirage.

Either the head ops didn’t know he was there or was pretending not to notice.

The younger spy figured he’d probably hear about it later if it was the latter.

Whirr kept looking at the clock.

Steeldust kept listening to the reports.

Soon enough, everyone had finished, including the scientist.

“Now,” began the prime. “As you all know we have lost one of our elite seekers.”

He paused and everyone bowed their helm a moment, either in a real or fake show of remembrance and grief.

“However, we must move past this tragedy. We must decide what to do, both how to take vengeance on our fallen seeker and to decide if we select a new member.

“That is why I have invited Sideswipe’s former fellow seekers to join us at this point.”

Wordlessly, Ironhide rose and stalked to the door, opening it and sticking his helm out. The twin bodyguards outside glanced at him but said nothing.

“Ya can come in now.”

Smokescreen proudly strode in, taking an empty seat. Blurr followed, seating himself beside the lead seeker.

After Ironhide had shut the door and sat back down, the Prime continued.

“Smokescreen. Do you have anything you wish to say about your fallen comrade?”

Smokescreen straightened, frowning deeply as he looked down at the table. “Sideswipe was a good mech and a good comrade. I will sincerely miss him.”

As the seeker continued, Steeldust thought he might be sick with all the obviously fake sorrow that he was spitting out.

_“He doesn’t care. Not really. He just wants to sound good.”_

“And you, Blurr?” Optimus droned, clearly hearing enough of Smokescreen.

Blurr was quiet for several kliks before speaking, gathering his thoughts.

“I didn’t know Sideswipe as well as some, but I’d like to think we would consider each other friends. I will miss him as my friend and comrade; however, I cannot imagine the pain his brother is feeling.”

At Blurr’s words, Steeldust flinched. He knew he was imagining it, and thanks to him, so was Steeldust.

“Indeed, Blurr,” Optimus said, eyeing the special operative. “And I imagine his brother would agree with anyone who decided to take vengeance.”

“Of course, we both would join him,” said Smokescreen, speaking for both remaining seekers. “As would others.”

“I am sure,” agreed the Prime. “The Decepticons will pay for what they have done.

“For now, we must decide whether to choose another member, Smokescreen.”

Mirage spoke up. “From my observations, many of the seeker’s maneuvers and plans work better with three.”

“I agree,” said Prowl. “The trine is more beneficial than simply two.”

“Smokescreen, you are head seeker,” the Prime spoke. “What is your opinion?”

“I believe Prowl and Mirage are right, my Lord.” Smokescreen glanced at Blurr before continuing. “As much as we hate to replace Sideswipe so soon after his death, it would be better to avenge him with a whole trine.

“And the sooner we choose a new mecha, the sooner we can have them trained.”

“Do you have any suggested candidates, Prowl or Magnus?” Optimus asked.

Prowl beat his rival, as usual to the hidden spy’s amusement.

Whirr stopped staring at the clock long enough to listen.

“I believe either Sunstreaker, Bumblebee, Skyshadow, Hot Rod, or Cliffjumper would be valuable assets to the seekers,” the second in command said, eyeing Ultra Magnus as he spoke. “However, some of them have other jobs and obligations already that may interfere.”

“Wheeljack, Tracks, Bluestreak, Steeldust, and Streetwise may be good candidates as well,” added Magnus quickly, glancing towards the war leader. “They have fewer other functions.”

Optimus steepled his digits and narrowed his optics in thought.

“If I may, Sir?” Mirage questioned briskly; optic ridges furrowed.

“You may speak,” muttered the Prime.

“The seekers already have one of my special operatives, Sir,” Mirage said levelly. “Taking another member would potentially cripple my team.”

“Well, Hot Rod or Wheeljack would be taking from the Wreckers,” muttered Kup, glaring across the table at the former noble. “You have as many mecha as I do.”

“That may be true,” agreed the head spec ops, returning the glare. “However, my team is not composed of cannon fodder as yours often seems to be. We have actual differing skills and jobs.”

“Why you little-“ Kup snarled.

“Enough!” Optimus thundered, banging a fist on the table. “Stop squabbling like little sparklings.”

Settling back into his chair, he continued, still glaring at the black ops team leaders.

“You have valid concern for your teams, but in this case, Mirage’s argument is more worthy. Mirage, you may keep Steeldust and Skyshadow, we’ll consider Bumblebee.”

Steeldust noted Smokescreen looked a slight bit disappointed while Blurr was relieved.

Ultra Magnus spoke again.

“Skyshadow is both special ops and Lord Prime’s assassin as well. It would be better for her to not gain another position to maintain. In addition, I suppose having two siblings among the seekers may be potentially detrimental in Steeldust’s case.”

“Bluestreak is needed as a sniper,” Prowl countered. “And Streetwise is needed with the Protectobots. Tracks would not pay enough attention to the mission instead of himself.”

“Agreed,” hummed Optimus. “Steeldust would have a similar problem to Tracks, only he’d be mouthing off instead of focusing on his vanity.”

Above them, a certain figure bristled.

“It would be fitting if Sunstreaker took his deceased brother’s place,” mused Prowl. “Cliffjumper and Wheeljack are both brutal, but also have the ability to adapt to an extent. Either may be a good potential fit.”

Smokescreen nodded. “So, our choices are Bumblebee, Hot Rod, Cliffjumper, Sunstreaker, or Wheeljack then?”

“You two think about it and then we’ll speak on the subject again.” Optimus nodded to his second. “Prowl and I will discuss it further alone. Everyone else, dismissed.”

As the rest got up and filed out of the room, Steeldust noted Whirr’s hurried pace.

_“Stay and listen to Prowl and the Prime or follow him?”_ he wondered.

Making a decision, Steeldust lifted a ceiling tile and slipped back into the passageway in the wall.

He’d so far avoided detection with a room full of ‘bots, two special operatives included.

However. Everyone eventually got caught. It was sometimes wise to cut your losses and move out before you did.

The longer he stayed, the longer Praxian doorwings had time to pick up his presence.

Especially now since anything they picked up couldn’t be blamed on one of the roomful of other mecha.

Besides, he knew he’d find out who they decided to be Sideswipe’s replacement eventually anyways.

He just hoped he wasn’t missing anything about what actually happened to the assumed dead ‘bot. Or what was presumed to have happened.

* * *

Blades wasn’t the sort of mech to poke his olfactory sensor in other mecha’s business. But even if he was often thought of as just a big oaf with a lot of muscle and temper, he was a pretty perceptive guy.

So, when he bridged back Sunstreaker and Skyshadow after their patrol was finished, he pretended not to notice their thinly hidden distress.

Somehow, he knew it wasn’t related to something they’d found on patrol. And it wasn’t that they’d gotten into an argument. If it was, they’d either be demanding to speak with one of the chain of commands or not speaking to each other.

But Blades could almost smell the fear, worry, and tension on them as they walked out of the communications room. Skyshadow said a quick thanks and then they were gone as quickly as they’d come.

Something was wrong. If those two, two of the best warriors they had, ones who had the talent and ability to keep all of their emotions under control and invisible, were showing those emotions?

Blades frowned deeply at the now empty doorway where they’d vanished through. Then, he turned back to his monitor screens.

He wasn’t the kind of mech to go poking around. But when something like what had just happened found him, he couldn’t help but wonder.

Something wasn’t right.

But it wasn’t his business.

He turned his helm back to the hallway entrance, furrowing his optic ridges.

Or was it?

* * *

Whirr stepped through the groundbridge into the forest and listened.

Nothing but the croaking of tree frogs, the hoot of an owl, and the whisper of the breeze rustling the leaves met his audios.

Clicking a button on the remote control in his hand, the groundbridge disappeared, leaving him in the dark.

After waiting a few astrokliks for his optics to adjust, the helicopter scientist moved forward, trying to be as quiet as he could.

For not the first time in his life, he was thankful for his small stature as he moved in between the trees that would prohibit many of his comrades from moving easily through the forest.

Soon enough, he had reached the coordinates he had been sent and glanced around. The trees were a little sparser here and almost immediately, Whirr spied a familiar figure leaning against one of them.

“I was beginning to think you decided not to come,” the mech said quietly.

Whirr dipped his helm in greeting, drawing nearer to the other mech as he did. “I apologize, friend. There was a meeting that went longer than expected. I couldn’t leave without raising suspicion.”

Iron Blade nodded and pushed off of the tree, closing the distance between them further.

“It is not a problem, Whirr. I was just concerned.”

“Thank you for your concern, but I am fine.”

The young Decepticon nodded once, then reached into his subspace. He then handed Whirr a small bag.

“Here. This is what you asked for?”

Whirr took the bag and peered inside. “Yes. That should work perfectly. Thank you.”

The helicopter then reached in his own subspace and withdrew a set of blueprints. “And as promised, here’s the plans I was working on for that weapon.”

Iron Blade took the extended sheets of paper and examined them for several kliks.

Then, he rolled them back up and handed them back. “Thank you. We’ll be sure to watch out for that when you finish it.”

Whirr shoved the blueprints back towards the younger scientist. He took Iron Blade’s hand and wrapped his digits around the papers.

“Take them,” he said with a small, grim smile. “You may need them yet too.”

Iron Blade opened his mouth to protest, but Whirr beat him.

“I know, you already committed them to memory,” the older scientist chuckled lightly. “But I have my originals. You wouldn’t want me to have copied these for nothing, would you?”

Iron Blade paused, then subspaced the blueprints. “I guess not.”

“I’d better get back,” Whirr said, patting the young mech on the shoulder. “Thank you again, Iron Blade.”

The white, black, and silver mech reached and clasped the older mech’s servo.

“Thank you, Whirr. You are the one at more risk here. Be safe, friend.”

Whirr returned the grip and smiled again. “Until next time.”

Iron Blade quickly disappeared into the forest as Whirr clicked a button on his remote. Another groundbridge swirled to life and without looking back, the Autobot ran through.

Once he was in his lab, he shut the bridge off again.

It was quite handy to have a secret, remote groundbridge at your disposal.

Setting the remote down on a shelf, Whirr withdrew the bag from his subspace and emptied its contents onto one of the nearby worktables.

“Well, this should be exactly what I need,” he said to himself.

“So. That’s where you do your science shopping. And how the Decepticons figure out our plans.”

Whirr froze, immediately recognizing the voice behind him. Slowly he turned around, fear in his optics.

This was bad.

Steeldust stood in the middle of his lab, his servos crossed over his chest. The unreadable look on his faceplate made the scientist even more nervous.

However, he outranked the young mech. Maybe, if he had to, he could use that.

The mech swallowed hard, forcing his voice to be calm. “Steeldust. How did you get in here? You do not have clearance, nor have asked for my permission. In addition, my lab is always locked and I’m the only one who knows the code.”

The red and black spy didn’t move, didn’t even blink.

“I followed you in. Been following you since you left the meeting.”

Whirr’s optics widened _. “That means he followed through the groundbridge and saw me with Iron Blade.”_

“Why were you following me?”

Steeldust shrugged. “You looked like you were up to something.” His servos fell to his sides. “I guess I was right.”

_“This is bad.”_ Whirr knew he was cornered. A _special ops_ had caught him in the act of treachery. _“Why did it have to be a special operative?”_

There was obviously no fighting this one out. Steeldust might only be about a helm taller than him and more lightly built, he was much better trained in combat. Not to mention he was fast.

Whirr thought he might have a chance of talking his way out. _Might_.

“Steeldust,” Whirr began, voice a bit shakily. “I want you to think about what I’m about to say with an open mind. And think about it very carefully.”

The young mech narrowed his optics but said nothing.

“In war, as you know, we sometimes have to do things we don’t want to. Sometimes, in order to reach a greater goal, we have to make choices that may look treasonous.”

“Look?” hissed the special op, taking a step forward. “Last I checked, trading info, weapons plans, and material is treasonous, Whirr. Are you trying to get killed?”

“Well, yes. You’re right,” Whirr said, scratching the back of his helm. “But you see, I can’t get certain materials for my projects and such. You know, being on an organic planet makes things hard to come by and I simply don’t have the resources the Decepticons do.

“And I’ve never given them crucial plan information, Steeldust. This isn’t what you think.”

Steeldust had looked away, scanning the room as Whirr spoke. Only his optics and his helm moved, otherwise, he was as still as a statue. Except for an occasional twitch of his doorwings.

Whirr, not for the first time, wished he knew wingspeech better. Or the doorwinger’s version of it at least.

It would be helpful in this case to discern the young mech’s thoughts on the matter. Or if he was trying to use the hidden sensors in his doorwings to find something.

Whirr also wished he knew how much doorwingers could sense. And exactly how it worked.

At least it wasn’t one of the Praxians in here, they could sense even more than other doorwingers. If it was Prowl or Smokescreen, he’d definitely have a shorter lifespan. Bluestreak was loyal to Prowl, he would have already called him if it was him in here instead.

But Whirr was sure his demise would come very soon anyways. A special agent had found out.

_“He likely holds my very life in his hands,”_ the scientist realized dismally _. “And if he’s loyal, he will tell Optimus Prime about what he saw.”_

Whirr knew this deep down even before he had started trying to explain himself to the spy.

“Steeldust, I know this is a lot to ask, but will you please not tell the Prime? I fear I wouldn’t be around much longer.”

The young mech didn’t look at him, he was still scanning the lab. “You know that would involve me in your little treachery, right?”

“I know, and I didn’t want it to come to this.”

Steeldust jerked and turned his attention back to the scientist, looking at his hands.

Which were empty.

The spy visibly relaxed, although his optics held suspicion. Then, his helm turned, something catching his attention on a nearby worktable.

_“He thought I was going to harm him,”_ Whirr realized. _“That wouldn’t help my situation, I’d have to explain that. Not that I would of course.”_

The scientist watched the young speedster with a sinking feeling in his tank. The kid had made no comment to offer him any reassurance.

Whirr bowed his helm. “I knew it was hopeless to plead. You are a good, loyal servant of the Prime, Steeldust. I should have known that.”

“Is that energon candy?”

Jerking his helm up, Whirr followed the direction of the younger mech’s gaze.

“Uh, yes? It’s just a recipe I was trying to recover. I’m still tweaking it, it’s not quite right yet.”

Even as he was speaking, Steeldust had wandered over to the worktable and lifted the lid on the small container.

“As you know, the art of it has been long lost since before Cybertron went dark,” Whirr continued, uneasy at the lack of concern Steeldust was showing over his traitorous deeds.

Or was it pretended lack of concern?

Whirr didn’t know Steeldust very well. Not enough to tell. But he knew he was crafty. He could be just getting him to relax before he struck.

He watched as the speedster picked up one of the small cubes and examined it closely.

Then, suddenly, it was in his mouth and gone.

A look of delight crossed the red and black’s faceplate and he turned to face Whirr.

“That was so good.”

Whirr just stood there, blinking.

Steeldust grabbed another candy and quickly downed that one too.

“But it maybe needs a touch more sweetener.”

Whirr continued to stare.

“Hey, Whirr,” Steeldust said, ignoring the stare he was being given. “Since you’re into trading. I’ll keep completely quiet about this whole thing if you give me some of these.”

Whirr semi recovered and nodded, gesturing with a hand to the sweets.

“By all means. I’m glad they’re good.”

Steeldust scooped out a handful and placed the lid back on the container. He turned and walked towards the door.

“Mind letting me out? I don’t know your code for the door.”

“Oh yes, yes, of course!”

Whirr hurried over and quickly punched in the code on the keypad. As he did, he couldn’t help but note that Steeldust turned his helm so he didn’t see.

Once the door was open, Steeldust strode out into the hall, sending a grin over his shoulder. “Thanks again, Whirr.”

“Uh, thank you?” the very confused scientist said.

When Steeldust had disappeared around a corner in the hallway, heading upstairs likely, Whirr retreated into the lab and relocked the door.

“That didn’t make any sense at all,” he muttered to himself, staring at the remaining energon candy. “Why would he promise to not tell about this in return for candy?”

He narrowed his optics, worry crossing his faceplate. “Or will he keep that promise? I best keep my helm down for awhile either way.”

Knowing there wasn’t much point in trying to figure out the strange young mech, Whirr went back to what he’d been doing before being interrupted.

“How on Cybertron did he follow me all around without my notice?” the bewildered scientist asked out loud. “And he must have escaped Iron Blade’s notice too!”

Whirr wondered just how many other times he might have been followed.

He would have to be more careful.

* * *

Steeldust made his way quickly up from the basement where Whirr’s lab was.

And the brig cells and interrogation rooms were.

_“What a weird place for a science lab,”_ the speedster thought to himself.

He didn’t get very far before he turned a corner, almost running into someone. Who he felt more than saw.

“Sheesh, Mirage!” Steeldust grouched, glaring at the wall where he figured his invisible superior was standing. “We need to get you a bell.”

A disembodied voice replied. “That would be counterproductive, don’t you think? Perhaps we need to get you a tracker. Where have you been?”

“Here in the base all orn,” Steeldust said, moving his helm to better aim his gaze towards the voice. “Were you looking for me?”

“No. But you just came from the basement. Were you in the box again?”

The speedster frowned. “Why does everyone always ask that? No, I wasn’t in the box. I was in the passages.”

He imagined Mirage raising an optic ridge at that.

“I see. Carry on. See that you behave yourself.”

Steeldust sent the invisible ‘bot one last scowl before stalking off.

_“Well, I guess I’m good with having snuck into the meeting. I can’t tell if ‘Raj noticed or not when I can’t see his expression.”_

“Sunstreaker and Skyshadow were looking for you,” Mirage called after him.

Freezing midstride, Steeldust didn’t turn around.

“Why?”

“Skyshadow did not say.”

“Do you know where they are now?”

“No, but I suspect that you could guess. Or simply comm them.”

Steeldust listened, but didn’t hear anything more. He figured Mirage had left and he carried on.

_“Why would they be looking for me?”_ he wondered.

A cold feeling crept up his spine.

_“And why didn’t they just comm me in the first place? Why ask Mirage?”_

Steeldust stopped and tapped a section of the wall, sliding the hidden panel open.

Two pairs of optics met his.

“Hello, Steeldust.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First rule about Autobot fight club? Don't talk about it. Or any treasonous subjects when mecha could be listening.

“Oh hey,” Steeldust said, quirking an optic ridge.

Sunstreaker stepped out of the passageway, followed by Skyshadow.

“We need to talk,” growled the frontliner.

“Can it wait?”

“No.” Skyshadow crossed her servos. “Unless you have a really good reason.”

Steeldust flicked his doorwings. _“This is just weird.”_

“We need to talk,” repeated Sunstreaker, taking a menacing step towards the speedster. “Now.”

“Sure. And I need to go take my shift on monitor duty,” countered Steeldust, walking away from the couple. “Make it a rain check, Sunshine.”

He didn’t get very far before they caught up to him.

The speedster flinched but kept walking as the duo fell in step on either side of him.

“Sunstreaker tells me that you may have some information for us, Steeldust,” Skyshadow said lowly. “It would be in all of our best interests if you shared what you know.”

Steeldust kept his mouth shut, shooting her a sideways look.

“Or do we need to persuade you?” Sunstreaker growled in his audio.

“What do you two want?” hissed Steeldust lowly. “I said I’d talk to you later. I have to get to my shift.”

“Then switch with someone,” prodded Skyshadow, narrowing her optics as she glanced up at him.

Steeldust let out a loud huff of annoyance. “My shift starts in only a few minutes. Unless one of you two are volunteering, I don’t have time. If you’re not, I’ll be on my way.”

With that, the young spy sped up into a jog. Soon leaving them behind.

“Steeldust! Wait!” Skyshadow called after him, tone urgent.

_“This is really weird,”_ Steeldust thought, furrowing his brow. _“If this is about Sides’, they’ve waited this long to start investigating. Why the hurry all of a sudden?”_

Meanwhile, Sunstreaker and Skyshadow exchanged a look.

“He’s hiding something,” growled the frontliner lowly.

Skyshadow placed a hand on his servo. “We don’t know that. He’s got in trouble for not showing up for a shift before. And we couldn’t talk in the middle of the hallway. He knew that.”

Sunstreaker let out a sigh. “I hope you’re right.”

With that he strode off, heading in the same direction as Steeldust had disappeared off to.

The purple and black frowned. “Where are you going?”

The frontliner didn’t stop, just simply answered over his shoulder.

“He’s good at multitasking. He can talk and stare at screens at the same time.”

Running to catch up with him, Skyshadow caught hold of his servo again, stopping him.

“I know I said we should talk to him first,” she whispered. “But is this really the best way? If he’s on monitor duty, he won’t be going anywhere. We could talk to someone else in the meantime.”

“We checked the suspects’ alibis,” Sunstreaker replied, just as quiet. “Only one had one. It wasn’t Steeldust.”

“I know. But forcing him is going to make him suspicious,” hissed Skyshadow. “And if he is guilty, we will lose him. We need to change our plan.”

“You can wait if you want. But I can’t.”

Skyshadow watched as her courted resumed his march. Somewhat begrudgingly, she followed.

“This isn’t going to end well.”

Not far off, a certain spy lingered a moment more before heading in a different direction.

_“Those three are up to something.”_

* * *

“Blades! I’m here! You can go now!”

The Wrecker turned his helm towards the communications room doorway, arching an optic ridge at the young speedster running towards him.

Skidding to a halt a few feet away, Steeldust glanced at one of the monitor screens.

“Hey, I made it. Thought I was gonna be late,” he grinned.

“What, did you forget or something?”

“Nah, mech. Just held up a klik.”

Blades crossed his servos, staring down at the twenty-two-foot-tall mech.

Steeldust just returned the look evenly, unconcerned that a mech almost twice his height and many times his mass was staring him down.

“Sure, kid.”

“Anything interesting today?”

“Nope.”

Nothing that was Blade’s business anyways.

“Cool. See ya.”

Blades stomped away, sending slight tremors in the floor as he went.

“Don’t get distracted,” he called over his shoulder.

Steeldust snagged a stool from its position along the wall and dragged it over in front of the computer.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” he muttered as he took a seat.

A quick scan of the monitors told him that all was well and boring.

No signals of any kinds, no incoming attacks, nothing.

Which was all well and good.

With several kliks on the main keypad, Steeldust brought up the patrol schedule.

Several Autobots were currently out on patrol and would likely be out for some time. No one else was scheduled to go out for a while either.

Closing the schedule, Steeldust made a face.

“This is going to be a long shift. I don’t get to do much this time.”

_“Oh well, it’ll give me some time to think about some stuff.”_

Reaching into subspace, Steeldust withdrew an energon candy and popped it in his mouth. Instead of quickly chewing and swallowing it like the ones he’d had in Whirr’s lab, he savoured it.

Who knew the next time he’d get a hold of such things again?

The enjoyable peace and quiet was soon broken by a certain frontliner entering the room.

Steeldust heard him coming in and glanced at him, optics narrowed.

“You were just on patrol. Whatcha doing out here?”

Striding right up to the speedster, Sunstreaker growled out a reply.

“We’re going to have a chat. And you’re not going to run away this time.”

“Who said I ran?” asked Steeldust coolly, watching the other young mech carefully. “What’s your deal anyways?”

“My deal is that you have information you need to spill,” snarled Sunstreaker, leaning over Steeldust. “Now talk.”

“What do ya want me ta talk about? Back off a bit, will ya?”

“You know exactly what I want to know.”

Skyshadow entered the room then, swiftly crossing it to join the other two.

Getting off of the stool he’d been perching on, Steeldust glanced from one to the other.

“Alright. What is this? Group gang up on Steeldust? Cause I don’t wanna play that.”

“We can do this the easy way or the hard way,” Sunstreaker said, advancing another step towards him. He shoved the stool out of the way, the legs scraping the floor with a screech.

“Sunstreaker,” Skyshadow said firmly. “This isn’t the time or place.”

“Look,” muttered Steeldust, raising his hands. “I don’t know what’s up wit’ the turn o’ attitude here, but I got a job ta do.”

He moved one servo, pointing a digit towards the exit. “We can discuss it later when yer chilled out. Seriously, mech.”

“Sunstreaker, don’t do something you’ll regret,” added Skyshadow, still several feet away where she’d halted. “Remember what happened when you and Cliffjumper got in a fight last time?”

“I don’t care if I get sent to the brig again,” growled the frontliner, glaring holes in Steeldust’s armour. “He knows something.”

Steeldust’s optics flicked between the pair again, suspicion evident on his faceplate. His armoured plating along his shoulders and back began to rise, along with his doorwings.

“What do ya mean?”

“What do you know about Sideswipe?”

“I told ya what I know,” Steeldust replied slowly, backing away as Sunstreaker began to advance again. He stepped further into the middle of the room, keeping an optic on Skyshadow as well.

“Yer gonna get caught talking about this out loud,” he added quietly.

“What did you hear them say?”

“Who?”

“Prowl and Smokescreen. What did you hear?”

“Sunstreaker, Sky’s right. This ain’t the place for this,” Steeldust urged, optics flicking to the three exits. “If someone hears ya, we’re all toast. All _four_ of us.”

Glancing at Skyshadow he shook his helm. “What’s wrong with you two?”

Suddenly, both the frontliner and spy’s optics dimmed, signalling they were on an internal comm.

Sunstreaker then turned fully to face Skyshadow who gave a short nod.

Relaxing, Steeldust opened his mouth to speak, figuring she had said something that persuaded Sunstreaker to leave him alone.

The next moment, he wasn’t so sure.

The frontliner whirled, right fist leading. Steeldust dodged, barely missing getting punched in the side.

“Whoa! Hey!” he protested, dodging again as Sunstreaker swiped at him again. “What’s the matter with ya?”

Sunstreaker kept coming, forcing the speedster to back up, raising his servos to block.

“I didn’t ask to spar with you right now,” snarled Steeldust.

After several kliks of Sunstreaker throwing hits and Steeldust dodging or blocking them, the frontliner finally got in an actual hit.

Feigning to punch Steeldust in the helm, he instead kicked him in the left side.

To his surprise, Steeldust fell to the floor with a snarl.

Skyshadow decided she’d had enough and grabbed Sunstreaker by the servo.

“Enough.”

Sunstreaker glanced at her grimly for a klik, meeting her serious expression.

“This isn’t going anywhere,” she continued firmly, shaking her helm.

The pair then turned to the speedster, who hadn’t gotten back up.

He half sat up, coughing and holding his side as he glared up at them.

“What. Is _wrong_ with you two?” he demanded.

_“Is that how Sideswipe would have attacked someone behind him?”_ Skyshadow asked through the internal comm with a frown.

_“Not exactly,”_ Sunstreaker replied. _“But he would’ve most likely hit the left side of whoever it was from what position he and the attacker were in by the pedeprints we found.”_

_“Apparently there’s already an injury there.”_

_“Do you still disagree about confronting him now?”_

“Hey!” Steeldust spat. “I’m not part of the internal comm. I don’t know what you two are saying.”

Interrupted, Sunstreaker and Skyshadow turned their full attention back to the speedster on the ground.

He tried sitting up further, but winced.

“What’s wrong with your side?” Skyshadow demanded, noting it was obviously not a new wound causing him pain.

Steeldust stared at her incredulously for a moment. Then pointed up at Sunstreaker.

“He just kicked me!”

“Not that hard,” snapped Sunstreaker, taking a step forward.

Skyshadow held up a hand to his chest, halting him. “You have an injury there already?”

“Yeah. What of it,” Steeldust demanded sullenly, looking up at them with distrust.

“What. Is. The injury,” hissed Sunstreaker.

“I got bruised ribs okay? Well, now they’re extra bruised.” The speedster shot a glare at the frontliner. “Thanks a lot.”

He got to his pedes, wincing every time he moved his torso.

“How’d you get them?” asked Skyshadow, optics narrowed.

Steeldust moved slowly towards the computer monitors, not turning his back on the pair as he went.

“Since you’re so desperate to know, they were a present from Breakdown,” he spat. After a slight pause, he continued. “And then Ricochet.”

Sunstreaker and Skyshadow exchanged a glance, frowning deeply.

The half-seeker flicked her wings.

“What’s this all about?” Steeldust demanded, leaning against the platform the keyboards were on. “You two demand we need to talk, refuse to listen, and then beat me up.

“What is this? Interrogation practice?”

“What do you think?” Skyshadow asked. She then switched back to the internal comm. _“He did just put Breakdown in the medbay yesterday. And you can walk around seemingly fine with bruised ribs. Especially if you have a high pain tolerance.”_

_“He could have made those excuses up on the fly. We know how fast he thinks.”_ Sunstreaker stared at the speedster. _“He could be acting, trying to cover up a knife wound.”_

_“Sideswipe did draw energon. He might also have bruised his attacker’s ribs too, depending on how hard they struggled.”_

Steeldust had immediately noticed when they’d started speaking over an internal comm again.

Suddenly, something clicked within his whirlwind of thoughts.

His optics widened, then narrowed into almost slits.

“You suspect me!” he whispered in a snarl. “Don’t you?”

Skyshadow and Sunstreaker closed their comm, optics brightening back to normal.

The frontliner opened his mouth, about to say something.

He never got to.

Throwing his helm back, Steeldust let out a cold, harsh laugh.

Quickly composing himself, he then glared daggers at them, a nasty smirk on his faceplate.

“Of course. What did I expect? Look what I get for trying to help, huh?”

“You are on the suspect list,” Skyshadow countered, keeping her voice low. “Sunstreaker didn’t know until I told him. Of course, we had to investigate you first.”

“Of course,” agreed Steeldust, gritting his denta. “Because your idiotic boyfriend thought it was a good idea to confide in his equally idiotic brother’s possible killer.”

“Were you?” Sunstreaker growled. He however, stayed where he was.

“No.”

“You don’t have an alibi,” pointed out Skyshadow. “Where were you when it happened.”

“In the box.”

“Of course, you were,” mocked Sunstreaker. He tilted his helm. “How convenient.”

Shooting a cold glare at the frontliner, Steeldust regained his stool, dragging it back to where he’d put it before. Climbing onto it with another wince, he checked the screens quickly before answering.

“It wasn’t me. And don’t either of you ask me for any more help. I’m done.”

Turning away, Steeldust leaned his elbow joints on the platform. However, his doorwings were raised, almost as sharply as they could go.

Skyshadow jerked her helm towards the door and walked away, Sunstreaker following closely.

The wordlessly agreed to temporarily move on to a different subject, but keep an optic on the speedster.

Before they could get far, Ultra Magnus stomped into the room. He quickly surveyed the trio, a dark scowl on his faceplate.

“Red Alert noticed you two fighting on the security feed,” he grumbled, gesturing the two young mechs. “What happened?”

Skyshadow intended to explain, but of course, someone else beat her to it.

“Dunno. Ask them,” hissed Steeldust without turning. “They’re the ones trailing me and trying ta beat me up.”

Magnus turned his attention mostly to the speedster, walking further into the room. “Why?”

“I just told ya. I don’t know.”

The third-in-command straightened, optics darkening. “Do not get smart with me, Agent.”

Thoroughly riled up, the speedster whirled and was on his pedes in a fraction of an astroklik.

“I’m just tryin’ ta do my job! Why don’t ya all go do yours? Leave me alone.”

Ultra Magnus bristled and Sunstreaker and Skyshadow cringed. But Steeldust didn’t stop talking.

He waved his servo at all them. “Why don’t _all three_ of ya go pick on someone else?”

“Enough!” yelled the officer. “You will calm yourself and all three of you will tell me exactly what’s going on here.”

“I’ll tell you what’s going on,” Steeldust yelled, shaking with rage. “I’m sick of being blamed for stuff and I’m sick of being talked down to and I’m sick of everyone treating me like dirt!”

“Perhaps if you did what you were told and did not act so shifty, your problems would diminish,” snapped Magnus coldly, folding his servos behind his back. “These two haven’t said anything yet, but it seems to me that you are the problem here. Perhaps if you acted your age and controlled your temper, things would go better for you.

“Now, Sunstreaker, tell me what happened?”

Sunstreaker hesitated, a little in shock at Steeldust’s outburst.

The speedster took that hesitation to march over to the trio. Getting in Magnus’ faceplate as much as he could with his seven-foot-height-disadvantage, Steeldust raised a digit and jabbed it into the third-in-command’s chest.

“You are not just going ta pretend you didn’t say any o’ that! I don’t care if yer third-in-command, you do not get ta say that!”

“Steeldust,” hissed Skyshadow, shaking her helm at him.

“And Sunstreaker attacked me, not the other way around. If ya’d listened the first time I said it I wouldn’t have ta say it again!” Steeldust’s optics flashed. “But ya can’t cause yer too high an’ mighty ta listen ta the little mecha ya step on ta get ta the top!”

Magnus swatted Steeldust’s hand away, leaning over him threateningly.

“If I were you, I would stop talking before you regret it,” the mech said through gritted denta.

Steeldust had the audacity to smirk, crossing his servos over his chest as he bent backwards to place more distance between them without moving his pedes.

“Hit a nerve, did I?”

“Shut up.”

Sunstreaker and Skyshadow watched the exchange in silence. Concern crossed their faceplates but they said and did nothing.

There was nothing to be done at this point.

“One more word out of you and I’ll have you thrown in the box again,” growled Ultra Magnus.

Narrowing his optics, Steeldust bared his denta. “You’re just in a bad mood cause you don’t have as much favour with the Prime as your rival does.”

“ _What?_ ” spat Magnus, optics narrowing.

_“I’ve got him,”_ thought Steeldust.

“You’re just mad cause Prowl was quicker and had better suggestions than you in the meeting today! And you received almost no approval for yours. Why don’t you go away and take it out on someone else already! And guess what? Your suggestions did suck. I wouldn’t want to be a seeker anyways.”

Magnus froze, optics widening. Then he growled, faceplate twisting in rage.

The rational, logical side of Steeldust’s processor finally caught up to the must-win-the-argument-and-prove-the-point-at-all-cost-side and he froze too, optics widening.

“Oh, scrap.”

“You snuck in!” Ultra Magnus slapped Steeldust across the faceplate sending him to the floor.

“You little snitch! You’re going to he box!” he roared.

Whirling the mech’s attention settled on the two bystanders.

“Sunstreaker! Monitor duty now! I don’t know how you were involved before, but your punishment is taking over this insolent brat’s shift.”

He then turned back to Steeldust, who’d gotten to his pedes and was now tentatively touching his faceplate to see if it was bleeding.

There was still a little bit of shock on his faceplate when he was snatched off the ground by the top plate of his back armour.

“You’re going to visit Lord Prime before the box,” Magnus growled, walking towards the hallway entrance.

Getting half carried, half dragged behind the bigger mecha, Steeldust didn’t bother to try and get away.

Instead, he glared towards Sunstreaker and Skyshadow who still stood in the middle of the room.

For it was technically their fault.

His day had gone from bad to worse in mere seconds.

Even when you could go from zero to sixty in a fraction of that in your alt mode, it sure didn’t help you much when you decided to talk instead of drive away.

_“Just walk away,”_ he’d been told by various mecha who had tried to be a mentor to him.

But he never could.

Steeldust couldn’t stand mecha picking on him. Or mecha he actually cared about.

Which had dwindled throughout the vorns to a very small number.

Anyways, you couldn’t just walk away from authority figures. So, what was the point with that piece of wisdom?

Internally, Steeldust sighed as he was dragged down the corridor, ignoring the looks he got.

Contrary to popular belief, Steeldust hadn’t always had an issue with authority.

It’d just been a very long time ago that he didn’t.

A gleam came into his optics as he thought of something, changing the look in them from defeat to malice.

Perhaps he couldn’t change the fact he was going to the brig. But he could make the life of the mech who was taking him there miserable.

Blurr watched, faceplate grim, as his brother was dragged past him in the hall by Ultra Magnus.

He knew where his brother was headed.

He made a mental note to go visit him in the brig in roughly an hour.

Maybe his little brother would tell him what he did this time. More likely, he’d just sit in silence and stare at the wall.

But an older brother had to try.

Right?

_“Steeldust... What have you done this time?”_

“Hey Magnus,” Steeldust said lowly, a snide tone to his voice.

“Shut up, scum,” growled the third-in-command.

Steeldust of course, carried on anyways.

“Ya know, I don’t get something. Why are ya takin’ me ta Prime?”

“You know very well why!”

Crossing his servos over his chest, Steeldust shrugged.

“Yeah, I know I’m an idiot. But I thought ya higher ups had the authority ta just throw us rebellious dimwits in the brig wit’out goin’ ta Prime first?”

Magnus was silent for several kliks. But he kept walking.

Steeldust’s faceplate split into a wicked grin, narrowing his optics as he stared at the floor.

He had the TIC. Right where he wanted him.

“It is none of your concern,” Ultra Magnus finally replied.

As they turned down a different hall, leading away from the throne room.

“Of course,” Steeldust agreed, faking the sullen tone, even as his grin grew wider.

He might get put in the box. But he wouldn’t trade his position with Magnus.

It would be especially lucky if the reason Prime discovered one of his spy’s whereabouts was because he had suddenly had need of him.

* * *

“This weapon that the Autobots are intending to create will be very dangerous,” Starscream said gravely, scanning the blueprints laid out on one of the worktables.

“I know,” Iron Blade said from his position across the large room. He turned in his chair to face the Vosian Commander. “But now we know how to destroy it when they finish it.”

“And create one of our own,” hummed Shockwave, leaning over the table to get a better look at the blueprints. And leaning closer to Starscream as a result.

Starscream frowned slightly at the bigger mech’s sudden close proximity. “But is that really in our best interest? I fear that retaliating in such a way would cause unwanted problems.”

Iron Blade scoffed, standing and walking over to join them. He glanced at them from across the table.

“Aren’t the Autobots already unwanted problems?”

Shockwave snorted in amusement. Starscream sent them both looks before rolling his optics.

“You know what I mean.”

Knockout, who’d been tinkering away at something in his own corner of the lab, then spoke up.

“You think they’d actually pin their scientist as the one who got us the designs?”

Iron Blade frowned deeply. He had thought of that possibility.

“It might not be their first explanation,” answered Starscream slowly. “They would consider the possibility of Soundwave’s minicons infiltrating their base first...”

“We cannot endanger our ally,” Shockwave said quietly. “Especially when Whirr may be our only one among the Autobots. It surprises me that he still has not been caught yet.”

Starscream picked up the sheets of paper and began rolling them up. “Then let us do our best to keep him that way. We will use the blueprints to counterattack the Autobots only by destroying the weapon that they create. That already may raise suspicion.”

The three other mecha nodded their agreement and went back to what they had been working on before the conversation.

“Now,” Starscream spoke again. “Are we in agreement that the net would be our best course of action against the Autobot speedsters?”

Iron Blade flicked his wings in annoyance as he crossed his servos. “That is the best idea we have. I don’t know that it will work though, they don’t run into other things.”

The young Commander sent a look towards the silver, white, and black mech.

“But like I said, it’s the best we got,” the younger mech repeated. “And I like Shockwave’s addition to it.”

“Yes,” Starscream said with a frown. “I agree that it would be more effective. However, we must be careful that it doesn’t kill them.”

Knockout scoffed. “Racers might be built light, but they’re not the fragile little flowers you three seem to think they are.”

Iron Blade frowned. “We know they’re not! And why does it matter whether or not we kill them? We’d be better off without them!”

The white, blue, and red Vosian shook his helm, wings sagging slightly. Regret flooded his faceplate as he spoke.

“While I do not disagree, my friend, we do not have to always resort to taking lives.” He paused momentarily before continuing. “And both speedsters are special operatives, one is also a seeker.”

“Megatron wants them alive for interrogation?” questioned the teal coloured medic.

“Yes.”

“Huh. Yeah, they’d probably have some juicy bits of information to give us.”

“If they are cooperative,” muttered Shockwave, moving off to examine the plans. “I know I would not be after what we are about to do to them.”

Iron Blade rolled his optics. “I volunteer to help them decide to talk. And if they don’t, you can use your Psychic Patch thing on them.”

“True.”

“I suggest we let Megatron decide who gets to interrogate them,” Starscream said with a wry smirk. “He himself gets first dibs you know, Iron Blade.”

The white and grey arched an optic ridge. “You have been spending too much time with Soundwave. You’re picking up his weird Earth lingo.”

Starscream merely shrugged and strode over to join Shockwave in reviewing the design plans.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sky and Sunstreaker try and decide how to proceed with what happened last chapter, the speedster brothers sort of have a heart to heart chat, and Whirr eavesdrops.

“You know you messed up, right?” Skyshadow asked, crossing her servos over her chest as she stared at the frontliner.

Sunstreaker didn’t return the look, simply grimacing at the monitor screen in front of him. “You think I don’t know that?”

Letting out a vent, Skyshadow stepped over to stand beside him. “I told you to wait. And you didn’t.”

“Sideswipe can’t wait,” the frontliner growled lowly, glaring straight ahead. “You know why I went ahead and interrogated Steeldust. You’re also the one who originally suggested to spar with him. Remember?”

“I know,” snapped Skyshadow. “But I only again told you to do it after you decided to yell at him. Otherwise we might have lost him before we could test our theory.”

“What do you mean lost him? We know exactly where he is now.”

Skyshadow shook her helm, wings twitching in agitation. “He will never talk to you while he’s down there. He won’t talk to anyone hardly when he’s in the brig.”

Sunstreaker simply let out a huff.

“Sunny,” the young femme said, tone less angry. “We lost him. He won’t help us anymore.”

“So, he said,” muttered Sunstreaker quietly, finally looking at his courted. “I’m sorry, I should have listened to you. I seen he was getting suspicious when we cornered him downstairs, but I couldn’t let him go.”

“Not when he knew we were investigating,” the spy added quietly. She placed a hand on Sunstreaker’s servo. “What’s done is done. We need to focus our attention elsewhere for the time being. Steeldust isn’t going anywhere currently. If we’re lucky, he’ll be willing to tell us what he knows.”

Sunstreaker nodded, turning back to the monitors.

Neither said what they both were thinking.

That if Steeldust didn’t tell them, they may have a lot less information to work with. And no future help.

“Do you think he did it?” Skyshadow asked softly.

Considering for several kliks in silence, Sunstreaker then shook his helm.

“I don’t think it was him. But we can’t be sure.”

He turned his helm back to meet Skyshadow’s optics.

“Not until we find out who did.”

* * *

_“If the Prime knows about this, I wonder why he wanted Sideswipe dead.”_

Despite vowing not to help Sunstreaker and Skyshadow, Steeldust found that he couldn’t stop thinking about the whole thing.

There wasn’t really much to do in the box anyways, so there was lots of time to think.

Or at least until someone had need of him.

So he thought while he paced.

Steeldust momentarily smirked as he imagined several different scenarios in which Lord Optimus Prime found out he was down here. But not by his orders or permission.

Steeldust tilted his helm, going back to his initial train of thought. Sitting down, he settled back against the wall, shifting to make his doorwings more comfortable.

_“If Prime wanted Sideswipe dead, then who would he give the order to?”_

The immediate answer was his personal assassin.

Narrowing his optics, the spy frowned. _“Skyshadow wouldn’t kill ‘Swipes. And I think Prime would know that. If she refused, a target might be on her next, especially if ‘Swipes was supposedly taken out for possible treachery.”_

Momentarily, Steeldust pictured Whirr being hunted down for his treachery.

_“Prime wouldn’t risk losing Skyshadow. She’s too valuable to him. So, who would be his second choice to carry out a kill?”_

Then, suddenly, Steeldust thought of something else.

_“If Prime suspected Sideswipe of treachery, he wouldn’t send an assassin. It wouldn’t be done in secret.”_

Lifting a hand to the scar on his faceplate, Steeldust’s optics widened.

“It would be public, made to be an example,” he whispered. “Prime mustn’t know.”

That meant, if he’d heard correctly, Prowl and Smokescreen were operating without the warlord’s authority.

_“Smokescreen would, but I don’t know why he would keep it a secret. Sideswipe was a fellow seeker though. But I think Prowl would never willingly go behind a superior’s back while he has Prime’s favour.”_

Steeldust scrunched up his faceplate, placing his hands on his helm.

_“It doesn’t make sense. None of this makes sense.”_

But then, not a lot of things had made sense to him for a long time.

_“I can’t believe Sunstreaker and Skyshadow thought I did it,”_ he thought, regret clouding his features.

_“I thought they were my friends. Don’t they know I was Sides’ friend?”_

Steeldust scowled, the look in his optics hardening. _“Not anymore I guess.”_

He lowered his helm, laughing under his breath.

_“So much for trusting mecha I guess. That’s okay, if they wanna be like that, I don’t need them.”_

Recovering, Steeldust lifted his helm, a sharp smile on his faceplate. Optics narrowed, he glared at the cell door across from him.

“What mecha seem to not get, is I don’t need _anyone_. Haven’t for a long time now.”

Hearing a set of light pedesteps, Steeldust dropped his smile, recognizing the gait of the steps.

Sure enough, Blurr momentarily looked in at him from the small window in the door.

From his seat on the floor, Steeldust couldn’t see much besides his brother’s disappointed faceplate. But he knew him well enough to know he had his servos crossed while his left pede tapped on the floor.

Neither brother said anything for many kliks, simply staring each other down.

Finally, Blurr sighed, shaking his helm.

“What are you doing, Steeldust?” he asked quietly. “You haven’t even been out of here for one day and you already got yourself thrown back in.”

Steeldust frowned, then looked away.

Blurr let out another vent, this time of frustration. He threw up his hands.

“Steel, come on. Don’t do this. You can’t just not talk to me.”

Apparently, Steeldust could and did so.

“I know you can hear me,” Blurr said, staring at his younger brother. “And I know you know how to stay out of trouble. So why don’t you? You can’t keep this up.”

“Or what?” Steeldust asked, glancing up at his older brother, no emotion in his optics. “You’ll tell our creators? They’re dead. You’ll tell the Prime? He knows. Magnus? He put me here. And Jazz and Prowl don’t care anymore. That is, if they ever did.”

Blurr’s faceplate grew very solemn very quickly. “Steel...”

Emotionless optics continued to stare at him, accompanied by a flat tone.

“I’m not a child anymore, Blurr. You don’t have to babysit me anymore.”

“You’re my brother, Steeldust,” argued the older speedster. “And I promised Sire I’d look out for you.”

A shattered smile flicked across Steeldust’s faceplate for an astroklik. “Maybe it’s time you quit worrying about me and look out for yourself. I can look after myself.”

“Obviously you can’t,” the purple and black speedster countered angrily, gesturing to their surroundings. “Maybe you should wake up and realize what you’re doing to yourself.”

Blurr paused, wiping a hand over his faceplate. He began again, calmer and quieter.

“You might not think I know, but I do.”

The red and black speedster glanced up at him again, a subtle tilt of his doorwings betrayed that he was paying more attention now.

“You know what?” he asked blankly.

“You,” Blurr continued, frowning sadly. “You hardly recharge you’re so busy sneaking around, both in and out of the base. You are in here so much that you’re almost starving yourself. You’ve visibly lost weight now.”

Steeldust narrowed his optics a fraction, but said nothing.

“And I have to watch! I can’t help you if you won’t help yourself! What do you have to say for yourself?”

Blurr then fell silent, waiting for an answer that he may or may not get.

To his surprise, perhaps, he did.

Steeldust blinked several times, then shrugged. “Ya know, I don’t do some o’ what ya said I do intentionally. There’s things to do, places to see, so I can’t stay here all the time. Ya should be happy bout that. If I’m not on base, then I can’t mouth off ta someone and get thrown down here.”

Blurr frowned, knowing he had a point. And noting his brother’s slight accent being present.

Which didn’t make him feel any better.

“Then, tell me, what do you find so interesting out there that you’re rarely here at night?”

His brother shrugged again. “This and that.”

“Where do you go?”

“Here and there.”

“Ugh. Steeldust! Don’t play this game with me.”

“You’re the one who came down to play it.”

The seeker stared at his brother for several astrokliks, debating on whether or not to yell at him.

While he hesitated, the younger of the pair stretched his long limbs before moving to sit with his pedes crossed.

“So,” Steeldust said, changing the subject. “Did they decide who Sideswipe’s replacement is?”

“They’ve narrowed it down to Hot Rod or Bumblebee,” Blurr said with a sigh, realizing he wasn’t getting anymore answers from Steeldust.

“Oh. Interesting,” replied Steeldust casually. He then narrowed his optics, tilting his helm as he did. “Do you and Smokescreen have a plan to get revenge for Sides’ death? Cause I want in.”

Blurr nodded solemnly. “I’ll let Smokescreen know. We don’t have a solid plan yet, but he plans to deal a hefty blow to the Decepticons.”

“Good,” nodded Steeldust, a dark smirk crossing his faceplate.

The older brother repressed a shiver at the intimidating look on his little brother’s faceplate.

Mecha weren’t wrong when they said the scar made him look scary. And those mecha were members of both factions.

A pang of guilt hit Blurr’s spark and he made to finish the conversation.

“I will have him inform you of our plans. Try to behave, Steeldust.”

With that, he hurried away.

Steeldust tilted his helm, then shrugged. He found it a little odd that Blurr had ended his visit so abruptly, but then, he probably had seeker business to attend to.

And the two brothers did technically hurry everywhere.

Down the hall, Whirr peered out of the cracked open door of his lab. His frown grew deeper as the older brother left the brig section of the basement.

He hadn’t been able to catch everything, but he’d heard enough.

Leaning against the door, the scientist listened for any further noise from the younger brother.

But as usual when Steeldust was his fellow basement dweller, the young mech was silent.

With a quiet sigh, Whirr withdrew from his eavesdropping and slid the door closed.

_“I don’t know about those two,”_ he thought. _“And I still don’t know if I can trust Steeldust.”_

After all, the kid didn’t have a reputation for his niceness.

Whirr would have to keep an optic on him.

It hadn’t been very long since he’d been discovered.

_“More than long enough for Steeldust to have let at least one mecha know,”_ Whirr thought as he went back to his invention.

The mech glanced at the blueprints, the ones he’d copied for another scientist.

He sighed, pain in his optics.

_“I hope you make your own weapon, Iron Blade. Or learn how to destroy mine when it’s finished. Because I have no power to stop it once Prime gets his hands on it.”_

* * *

Mirage followed Blurr back up to the main floor of the base, mulling over what he’d overheard.

Both from the speedster brothers and the conversation he’d listened to in the communications room.

While Blurr merely expressed concern for his younger sibling, along with potential future seeker business, Steeldust did not reveal anything in particular that gave the spy any clues.

That conversation had been made up of things Mirage already knew or had guessed.

He frowned as he split off from following the elder speedster and turned down an adjacent hallway, making himself visible once out of sight of the other mech.

What Mirage had overheard from what went on between Skyshadow, Steeldust, and Sunstreaker however...

Though not saying anything too specific until near the end of the confrontation, the trio of young mecha were up to something.

Something that Mirage had now figured out, both from piecing the hinted sentences at the beginning, and Steeldust’s outburst near the end.

Not to mention, it lined up with the fact it was those three talking about the issue. Together.

They were looking into the murder of Sideswipe.

It had been supposed to be an open and closed case.

The head spy however, knew that it had been only a matter of time before it was blown wide open.

That was what happened when you didn’t kill both twins.

Mirage shook his helm. _“Sloppy. I have an inkling that Sideswipe is not even dead.”_

Why else would Sunstreaker be so bent on finding his killer?

If Sideswipe was truly offline, then he should be at the very least, either still wandering around, visibly sparkbroken or killing anything that looked at him wrong.

The latter, more often than was normal.

_“And at the most,”_ Mirage thought to himself, definitely not for the first time, _“Sunstreaker should also have died._

_“After all, you take out one splitspark twin, you take out the other.”_

But if Sideswipe was alive, then obviously, he was in a comatose state. Otherwise, Sunstreaker would not be prowling around playing detective.

And even more obviously, Sideswipe was not in the Autobot base.

Mirage knew his top spy likely knew by now, exactly where he was.

He could ask her. Or check all the secret bunkers and black sites that they had.

That was, if he cared to.

He had bigger concerns however.

Like who was trying to kill off high ranking Autobots. If it was being kept under wraps by the trio, or rather, had been, that meant they suspected one of their own faction.

The spy had his own suspicions, but knew they were likely on the right track.

After all, he hadn’t taught Steeldust and Skyshadow nothing. They were good students and had been under his tutelage since before Jazz had stepped down from head operative.

And even that had been vorns ago.

Thus, Mirage had full confidence that the pair could finish this investigation without his help.

Which didn’t mean he wouldn’t do his own digging.

_“As long as they keep quiet and don’t let anyone else overhear them.”_

What was next on Mirage’s list of concerns was that Ultra Magnus had just taken one of his mecha to the brig.

Which wasn’t exactly uncommon, but bothered Mirage all the same.

After all, you would hope that the young mech would have learned to keep his thoughts to himself sometimes by now, but no.

Not that Magnus knew any better, but Optimus didn’t seem to have an issue with him.

Or, as much of an issue.

But Mirage’s mecha were supposed to be his to deal with. Not Magnus’.

And all punishments were supposed to be approved by the Lord Prime himself.

Having followed behind the third in command and his spy, Mirage knew for a fact that that did not happen. All thanks to Steeldust’s little comment.

Mirage had to admit, Steeldust was a clever little turbofox. He only hoped it wouldn’t one day get him skinned.

The spy decided to let the younger mech sit downstairs for a little while and think about his actions and then he would come up with something he needed Steeldust to do.

Then, as Steeldust had likely planned, Lord Prime would be informed that he was missing, found in the brig for some reason or other.

The head ops was all for Magnus getting taken down a few pegs.

_“Perhaps he will even get demoted,”_ he thought. _“That however, may be a tad too good to be true.”_


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steeldust gets a visitor, Smokescreen is a jerk, and the Decepticons prepare some traps.

“What do you mean, you can’t come?” the femme snapped, optics narrowing as she placed a hand on her hip.

She’d almost for certain found what was most likely the energon signal the three of them had been sent to investigate. However, apparently the other two bozos were, for some reason, unable to convene at her coordinates to further investigate.

After muttered grumbling, one of the mechs on the other end of the comm replied.

“We’re stuck.”

“What do you mean, stuck?” the two-wheeler demanded, tapping her pede on the rocky ground.

“We’re in a hole,” said the mech. “Might need some help out.”

“A hole? How did you two idiots happen to fall in a hole? And what is a giant hole doing in the middle of nowhere.”

The femme’s optics widened as she looked out over the canyon.

“YOU MEAN YOU FELL INTO THE CANYON! YOU DIMWITS! THAT’S WHERE WE’RE SUPPOSED TO BE!”

There was a short silence from Goldbug’s side of the comm, the young mech likely recovering from the sudden volume.

Cliffjumper was the mech that replied. “No, we’re not in the canyon, moron! It’s a trap!”

“How’d you fall into a trap?” Arcee asked shrilly, fists at her sides shaking in rage.

These two couldn’t be trusted to look for energon alone for five kliks!

“It was covered and we didn’t see it until too late,” Goldbug replied sullenly, audios no longer ringing. “Will you just come and help us out?”

Arcee smirked, a dark expression on her faceplate. “I have half a mind to leave you two in there to rust. Fitting that you would fall into your own graves, wouldn’t it?

“And much easier for me to collect your helms too.”

“IF YOU LEAVE US HERE, BY UNICRON I WILL TRACK YOU DOWN AND KILL YOU, ARCEE!” Cliffjumper screamed.

“If you can get out of your new home,” Arcee snapped back, rolling her optics.

“You mean, if Lord Optimus Prime doesn’t figure out your treachery first,” hissed Goldbug. "I wouldn’t want to be on his bad side, and I’m pretty sure he’d be upset if one of his best warriors went missing.”

Turning away from the canyon ledge, Arcee started walking towards where she’d split from the two mechs to search on her own.

“You mean your sister?” the femme asked coolly, not being able to resist a chance to poke the young mech’s sore spot. “If you died, I don’t think it would affect Skyshadow, sorry.”

“NOT HER, YOU IDIOT! ME!”

“STOP SCREAMING!!!” yelled Cliffjumper. “Arcee, get over here and help us out before I murder him!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” growled the femme. “Where are you two anyways?”

“In a hole.”

“Where’s the hole?”

Bumblebee scoffed. “In the ground. You have the scanner, femme! Use it!”

Arcee bared her denta in a snarl and shut her comm off. Pulling the scanner back out of her subspace pocket, she set it to scan for life signatures.

Once the device had pinpointed what must be Dumb and Dumber, the two-wheeler stomped away in that direction.

“When I find those two, I might just bury them in the hole,” she muttered darkly as she stalked across the rocky ground, avoiding the larger rocks. “Or just behead them and save myself the trouble.”

* * *

Smokescreen grinned when he saw the young femme walk out of the communications room, minus her tall, moody shadow.

Waiting until she passed the doorway he’d been just about to leave, the Praxian stepped out into the hallway and followed her.

“Oh, Skyshadow! Just the mecha I wanted to find!” he called as he caught up with her, slinging a servo over her shoulders.

Skyshadow didn’t slow her pace. “Remove the appendage or lose it,” she growled.

Smokescreen didn’t move his servo, only using it to pull the smaller femme closer as they walked down the hall.

“No need for that talk, babe,” he purred. “I just wanted to talk to you about something.”

“And I don’t give a care,” snarked Skyshadow, pulling away unsuccessfully from the stronger mech. “Go find someone else to annoy.”

As they entered an intersecting corridor, Smokescreen swiftly changed directions, taking his unwilling hostage with him.

“You’d care if you knew what it was I wanted to say,” he said, ignoring the insult. “Besides, you and I need to catch up.”

“You need to catch up with the fact that I don’t want to talk to you!” Skyshadow jabbed him in the side with an armoured, pointed elbow joint. “I already warned you once, let go or you will regret it.”

Annoyed at her disdain and threats, Smokescreen halted, pulling the femme around in front of him, holding her by her servo.

“Look here,” he said lowly, an edge to his tone as he stared into Skyshadow’s cold optics. “I outrank you, and I believe you know what happens to mecha who decide to threaten a higher ranking Autobot.”

Skyshadow glared daggers at the mech. “And I think you have an idea of what happens to mecha who threaten me,” she hissed.

“I’m aware of your proficiency of dealing with the opposite faction, Skyshadow,” Smokescreen said, jerking her closer. He bent, leaning so their faceplates were inches away. “But I doubt you would actually try that on a member of your own faction.”

“Do you? And what if Lord Prime or another officer asked it?” Skyshadow sneered. “What do you want, Smokescreen? You have mere seconds before my patience runs out and you lose a servo.”

Gritting his denta, Smokescreen let out a low growl. “I need your help with something, spy.”

“If it’s about your new, grand plan to take the throne- “

“It’s not that,” snapped the head seeker, interrupting her. “I need info on some mecha.”

Skyshadow gave him a look, arching an optic ridge. “Why do you need me? And who have you suddenly taken interest in? If it’s a femme, I pity her.”

The spy paused, then smirked. “And thank her at the same time. She’ll help me be rid of you.”

“Just come with me!” Smokescreen said with another growl, straightening and dragging her along as he resumed his course.

Opening an internal comm, Skyshadow prodded him with the question again. _“Obviously you don’t want to say the mechas’ designations out loud. Who are they? And let go. Now.”_

Complying, Smokescreen released his hold on Skyshadow’s servo.

_“I need you to give me some background information on two mechs. We’re trying to decide who would be a better fit for the third seeker.”_

Skyshadow raised an optic ridge again as she continued to follow behind the young mech. _“Seriously? That’s what all that was about?”_

_“You never help me willingly.”_

_“That’s because I really don’t like you, if you haven’t caught on yet. And that increases every time you talk to me.”_

Smokescreen glared at Skyshadow over his shoulder. She only returned the glare.

_“Who do you want info on? I’d like to get this over with as soon as possible thank you very much.”_

_“Hot Rod and Goldbug.”_

Skyshadow stopped in her tracks, crossing her servos. _“Seriously? Those are your candidates? Should be any easy choice.”_

Smokescreen, sensing with his doorwings that she’d stopped following, turned around and went back to stand in front of her.

_“What do you mean?”_ he asked, tone half annoyed, half curious.

The black and purple femme shrugged, rolling her optics. _“My brother might talk big and be a decent warrior, but he’s an idiot. Hot Rod at least has a little bit more competency to him along with skill.”_

She narrowed her optics. _“Plus, as far as I know, Hot Rod isn’t a backstabber. Goldbug definitely is.”_

With that, the femme stopped, looking expectantly up at Smokescreen for a reply.

“That’s it?” Smokescreen asked aloud, confusion evident on his faceplate.

“Yes.” Skyshadow shrugged. “Do you really need anything else?”

“Would be nice,” grumbled the Praxian.

Skyshadow waved him off with a hand. “No point. If you’re going with those two, pick the Iaconian. He’ll last longer and you and Blurr might too.”

_“You know Goldbug is also trying to work his way to the top,”_ she added, going back to the internal comm. _“Hot Rod may be as well, but I’d trust him over the other one. If I had to pick.”_

_“Goldbug’s your brother,”_ Smokescreen replied, furrowing his optic ridges. _“You don’t trust him?”_

“Do you blame me?” Skyshadow said aloud with a shrug. She then turned on her heel and sauntered back the way they’d come. Looking over her shoulder, she added something else, a dark smirk on her faceplate.

“My big brother taught me to trust no one. So I don’t.”

Smokescreen watched the lithe young femme move away down the corridor, then let out a huff.

“I suppose she’s probably right,” he grouched, turning to stalk away in the opposite direction.

It wasn’t how the young mech had hoped the conversation would go, but he’d gotten information.

_“She’s playing hard to get,”_ he thought with a smirk. _“Why wouldn’t she be?_

_“When I’m ruler, she’ll agree to be my queen and rule at my side. The two of us will become the most powerful couple in the universe! No one will be able to defeat us!”_

Smokescreen grinned darkly, letting out a low chuckle.

_“And after we conquer Earth, we will rebuild what’s left of Cybertron. After that, we will spread our empire to crush the neighbouring galaxies and bring their miserable races to their knees._

_“With the two of us in power, no one will be able to stand against the Autobots and survive!”_

* * *

Steeldust glanced up when he heard the brig door open, loud, thudding pedesteps entering the dungeon section of the basement.

Quickly matching the rhythm and sound to the pedesteps’ owner, the young mech quirked an optic ridge as he frowned.

A faceplate lowered itself to look in the small window in the door. Upon spotting the red and black mech, the half-Insecticon’s faceplate split in a wide grin, showing off his mouth full of sharp denta.

“I found you,” the creature said happily, voice deep and slightly guttural.

“Yay, you found me, Bug,” Steeldust said flatly, though a wry grin appeared on his faceplate.

Leaning forward to place his folded servos on his knee joints, he tilted his helm. “How’d you know I was down here?”

Bug lifted a hand to his faceplate. “I smelled you.”

“Do I smell that bad? I just took a shower today,” Steeldust joked.

“No,” the Insectibot shook his helm. “You just smelled like Steeldust.”

“Oh.”

“Why you down here?”

“Magnus put me down here. Cause he’s awful. And cause I’m awful I guess.” Steeldust shrugged. “The same old usual, Bug.”

“Oh, okay,” Bug replied.

Suddenly, without any warning, the Insectibot grabbed the door, sinking his monstrous claws through the panel. With a short yank, the door was soon sailing across the corridor before slamming against the opposite wall and falling to the ground with a crash.

Steeldust stayed where he was, lowering the servo he’d held in front of his faceplate when the door suddenly disappeared from his view. He blinked several times at the Insectibot still standing in the doorway.

The Insectibot blinked back, waiting expectantly for something.

“Welp,” Steeldust said after a final blink, twitching his doorwings. “That was brutally abrupt. What’d you steal my door for?”

Bug tilted his helm. “It was caging you in here.”

“Uhh, yes?” Steeldust said, raising an optic ridge. “That’s usually what doors are for. Especially brig doors.”

“I don’t like Ultra Magnus,” grumbled Bug. “He’s awful. And he put you in here.”

He paused, then grinned, revealing again his sharp teeth that could easily snap a mecha Steeldust’s size in half. “But I’m letting you out.”

“Oh,” replied Steeldust intelligently. “But I deserved it. And I’m not supposed to leave until someone comes and let’s me out.”

“That’s me,” said Bug wisely.

“No, no, no. Like, with the command of a high-ranking officer,” corrected the speedster, waving his hands around as he spoke. “I can’t actually come with you or we’d both be in trouble.”

Then, he lowered his voice to a low grumble that Bug could barely hear.

“Besides, if I wanted to get out, I could just let myself out.”

“Oh,” Bug said.

Then, he entered the small cell and sat down against the adjacent wall to Steeldust.

Steeldust rose an optic ridge. “So, you’re just gonna sit here?”

The Insectibot simply gave him a short nod.

“Don’t you have something more interesting to do?” Steeldust asked, genuinely confused.

“Not really.”

“Oh.”

Bug continued to quietly sit there, staring at the floor in front of them. Steeldust continued to stare at him for awhile, still confused. Then, figuring he’d have a companion for some time, he went back to what he’d been thinking about before he’d joined him.

* * *

“Hey, Shockwave. Can you hand me that tool?”

The larger mech wordlessly complied, handing the item Iron Blade had pointed at up into the tree.

Reaching down from his branch, Iron Blade took the tool with a grin. “Thanks!”

“You’re welcome,” replied Shockwave, stepping back to take a look at their progress.

The pair had gone out to scout for a good place to set their trap. They’d selected a valley in the middle of a forest and were setting up their nets in various places around it, not far into the tree line.

Where they knew the speedsters may use the cover to their advantage while darting in and out of the battle.

“I can’t wait to see the look on their faceplates when they run into these things,” said Iron Blade as he attached the last section of the net to the tree.

“It should be shocking,” replied the older scientist. “As long as they don’t see them, we should be able to capture at least one of them.”

“Or someone else,” added Iron Blade, hopping down from his perch. “Those two aren’t the only ones that use that tactic.”

“Agreed,” Shockwave said. He then bent to start collecting their supplies that they’d placed on the ground. “As long as we tell our troops about them, then no one should run into them that is not supposed to.”

Iron Blade frowned, flicking a wing. “Yeah, that wouldn’t be too great.”

* * *

Arcee could not believe her luck.

She’d managed to find the hole that Cliffjumper and Goldbug had managed to fall into.

In trying to assist them up, she herself had slipped on the edge and fell in with them.

“YOU IDIOTS!!!” she had screamed at them when they’d untangled themselves and stood up.

Whoever had dug the hole, must have been big. Or there’d been many of them. Or both.

The walls were too high and too far apart for any of them to climb. Even when Goldbug and Cliffjumper cooperated with each other long enough to link servos and try to climb back-to-back up the sides.

And to top it all off, no one at base was answering the comms.

“When I get a hold of who is on monitor duty,” growled Cliffjumper, slumping to the floor of the hole, not caring about the dirt. He was already filthy anyways. “I’m going to kill them.”

“I’m more interested in who dug this hole!” Arcee snarled, pacing the space between the two mechs, fists balled at her sides. “It must have been Decepticons! They knew we would be coming to investigate the energon signal!”

“Actually, wasn’t Blades on duty when we left?” Cliffjumper inquired lowly, furrowing his optic ridges. “He wouldn’t ignore our calls.”

Goldbug grinned maliciously, optics glinting. “But Blades won’t be on now. Check the schedule, it is supposed to be Steeldust.”

“Little brat wouldn’t dare ignore us,” Arcee hissed, turning towards them. “Something might be wrong at base.”

“Or,” Goldbug said. “He’s got himself in trouble. Again.”

“I don’t care what he’s done,” snapped Cliffjumper. “I just want out of this blasted pit!”

“Well, we might be stuck here awhile if something is broken,” Goldbug replied with an annoyed shrug. “Maybe we should try calling some of the others.”

“Your sister?”

“Anybody would be great,” grumbled Goldbug. “I kind of doubt that my sister would be the first one to come and help.”

The other two gave a nod in agreement.

Skyshadow wasn’t exactly known for being a friendly sort. More the cold and calculating type. If, that is, she tolerated you.

If she disliked or hated you, well...

None of the trio trapped in the pit had made themselves friends with the winged assassin.

“How bout we try someone else first?” Goldbug asked after thinking about it for a few kliks.

Before anyone could answer, the sound of an incoming aircraft engine met their audios.

“Who’s that?” grumbled Cliffjumper, straining his neck cables as he tried to get a better look at what sky he could see.

Arcee growled, a deep scowl forming on her faceplate. “It’s that good-for-nothing flier!”

Goldbug and Cliffjumper exchanged a glance.

“That would be all Decepticon fliers,” droned Goldbug, crossing his servos. “Please be more specific.”

“You know who I mean!”

“Oh. That one.”

Cliffjumper let out a low chuckle. “Fitting your arch nemesis comes along, Arcee.”

“Shut up,” growled the femme, giving him a death glare.

Meanwhile, the aircraft had come steadily closer. Soon, the trio heard it stop, followed by the sound of metal parts shifting. Kliks later, a familiar faceplate peered down at them from the edge of the hole above them.

“Well, well, well,” the winged femme said with a sneer. “If it isn’t the Junkion wanna-be and her horned freak mechfriend. Oh, and the bug.”

Her words were met with three glares.

“Hey! Watch it!” yelled Goldbug.

Arcee glared daggers at the Decepticon looking down at her. “If it isn’t the slime ball flier. What brings the likes of you here?”

Airina let out a laugh. “Says the worms from their hole in the dirt. I just came to check on a nearby energon signal. Thought I’d swing by the nearby Cybertronian life signals while I was at it.”

“If you try anything...” Cliffjumper began, trailing off with a growl.

The purple and black gave a haughty sniff, her wingtips flicking as she tossed her helm in disgust.

“None of you are worth my time currently. I’ll leave you for someone else to deal with.”

Turning back to look at them, she grinned darkly. “I’ll let the Stunticons know their stupid plan actually worked. I’m sure they’ll be pleased.”

With that, the femme flounced away from the edge and took off into the sky, heading towards the nearby canyon.

“When I get my hands on her,” snarled Arcee, pacing back and forth across the small space not taken up by the other two.

“You’ll what?” Goldbug grumbled darkly. “Rip her helm off?”

“We have to get out first, then I’ll help you,” snarled Cliffjumper. “Who does she think she is?”

“I don’t want to wait for the Stunticons. We need to get out of here!”

“Then call base!” Arcee yelled at the former scout. “What have you done to try and get us out?”

Goldbug leaned over the smaller femme threateningly. “More than you have.”

“Shut up, bug!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bug belongs to Blaster 2.0 and Airina to my sister. Thanks to both for their input in the scenes their characters appear in and the permission to borrow them.  
> This story is now caught up to where I've written, so the next update will not be as quick. However, Blaster 2.0 and I have started chapter 11.   
> Thanks for reading! We'd love to hear any comments or thoughts you might have!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A debut, a battle, a rescue, and a capture are all included in this chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it's been a few months I guess since I last updated this one... Not entirely uncommon I'm afraid, for many months to go by without a new chapter. Thank you to those who have been patiently waiting!
> 
> This chapter was co-written by my brother, Blaster 2.0, so thanks to him for writing scenes in this one along with many revisions and readings.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Whirr quickly strode into the throne room and knelt; his helm low.

Astrokliks ticked by as the tyrant Prime stared him down, purposely making the scientist wait to see what he would do.

Just as he often did to his underlings.

Finally, the Prime grumbled, “Rise. And tell me what you have created.”

The helicopter straightened from his kneeling crouch, meeting the other mech’s optics.

Leaning forward in his seat, Optimus’ faceplate split in an ugly sneer as he spoke again.

“I do hope it is impressive, Scientist Whirr. I don’t like disappointments.”

Behind him, Whirr could hear the twins snickering to each other from their posts by the door.

“Well, I don’t like to boast,” replied the scientist calmly, pressing down his nervousness. “But I do believe you will be impressed.”

Pressing three buttons on the controls of his gauntlet that was attached to his left servo, he called out three names.

“Sixgun! Cog! Aragon!”

Sets of stomping pedes met the present mecha’s audios.

Prowl, Ultra Magnus, and Smokescreen glanced from the Prime to the scientist, and then back at the three figures entering the throne room from where they had been waiting outside in the corridor.

Jazz and Ricochet gave them wary looks from under their visors, hands on the pistols at their sides.

Optimus Prime watched, gaze unwavering from the trio that came to a halt in a neat line behind their creator.

The first one was large, about average height and build for a Cybertronian. The second one that had entered the room, was shorter, more towards Whirr’s height and build, but still bigger than him. And the third one was, simply put, massive, rivaled in height only by Magnus.

“These are the Cyberbots,” said Whirr, a hint of pride in his tone. He folded his servos behind his back and stood a little straighter. “I created them from my own design, they function very similar to we Cybertronians, but take more effort to subdue in a fight. Also, they do not consume energon, but a serum based on energon that is easily produced.

“I believe they will be excellent additions to your army, my Lord.”

Whirr bowed at the waist, then straightened, awaiting the warlord’s response.

The Prime sat forward, his elbows resting on the armrests of his throne, digits steepled in front of him. His optics were narrowed as he examined the three Cyberbots.

The two Praxians observing from the side of the room flicked their doorwings while Magnus stared down the new trio with a death glare.

“Tell me more about your creations, Whirr,” said Optimus coolly.

“Okay. They can become armour and form around most mecha, like this.” The scientist pressed a button on his left servo guard.

Sixgun came apart into pieces, which formed around Whirr.

“The Cyberbots are hollow which makes it easy to form the shape of whoever they magnetize to, and their brain and few internal parts make up the small box on my back.” He turned to the side to show the prime.

Sixgun detached himself from Whirr, his pieces formed back the way that they were before, leaving Whirr where he was as well.

“Also, the Cyberbots also have an ability to heal their injuries very quickly, and if they explode, they can reform their body back together perfectly,” Whirr said as he looked at the Prime.

“Demonstrate!” ordered Optimus, flicking a hand impatiently.

“Gladly,” Whirr said as he clicked two buttons on his left servo guard. This action turned off Cog and Sixgun, their feet magnetized to the floor. They stood straight and motionless. The light from their visors dimmed but did not go out.

Whirr then detached his blaster from his right hip guard. He turned around and shot Aragon’s upper left servo, just below his shoulder.

As quick as you could say, “Cyberbot!” Aragon drew his gun off his right hip holster, but was stopped by Whirr who had clicked another button on his left servo gauntlet.

“Why did he stop?” the Prime asked, surprise in his tone.

Whirr turned around to face the Autobot leader, a slight look of betrayal on his faceplate. “Because I don’t fancy getting a headshot from an angry Cyberbot.”

Optimus sat back in his throne. “Fair enough, continue.”

The scientist continued. “Watch Aragon’s servo heal.”

The shot that had penetrated the black and red Cyberbot’s armour was now almost healed.

“Impressive, most impressive,” Optimus said with a wicked smirk.

“Thank you, but I think you will enjoy this most of all,” said Whirr, clicking a few keys on his servo guard.

The three Cyberbots were now all turned on, and had shifted almost every piece of armour to reveal every kind of explosive imaginable.

“You see, they have everything, even this,” said Whirr as he opened their chest armour to reveal a huge bomb. “As you can see, they each have one, and between that bomb and the rest of the explosives and firepower, the Cyberbots could obliterate the entire ranks of the Decepticons.”

Optimus was now standing up in amazement. “And all this, at my fingertips. We could destroy the Decepticons, easily, so easily.” The prime slowly sat back down in his throne, his optics never looking away from the Cyberbots that stood before him.

“Well, Whirr you have just assured me of where your loyalties truly are for you could end me now with the click of a button,” the prime said, testing the scientist. His optics slid towards his present officers momentarily. “And with me, half of my close command.”

Whirr looked at the button he could press to send everything the Cyberbots have in them at the prime. Then he looked back up at Optimus. “Yes, I guess so.”

“But I know you wouldn’t dare try it, because you would die trying,” Optimus said with a wicked laugh.

The laugh was echoed by the twin Polyhexians by the door. Ricochet flexed his clawed fingers as he grinned darkly.

The red and white helicopter looked down at the floor and bowed at the waist, “I assure you, Prime, you have my full loyalty.”

“Good, and now that I know you won’t try and use these weapons against me, we can continue,” Optimus said to the scientist.

“Yes of course,” said Whirr as he clicked the buttons to put the Cyberbots back in their original position.

A comm request to all officers had them pausing.

“What?” growled the warlord.

“Lord Prime,” said the mech on monitor duty. “We’ve picked up multiple Decepticon signals in one place.”

The Prime smiled darkly at Sunstreaker’s words.

“Very good. Sound the battle alarms.”

Cutting off the comm, the Prime stood, looking down at the Cyberbots.

As the alarm claxons began throughout the base, he spoke directly to Whirr.

“Let’s see, Scientist, if your Cyberbots are truly ready for their purpose.”

Bowing low again, the scientist said, “Yes, Lord Prime.” And with that, he left the throne room, the Cyberbots behind him in the order of Aragon, Sixgun, then Cog.

* * *

“The Autobots are on their way,” Iron Blade said, optics narrowed as he held a hand to his forehelm to shield them against the sun.

Turning to Starscream and Shockwave, he flicked his wings once. “Still think those nets will work?”

Shockwave nodded once. “We set them up properly, so they should. The connection reaches your servo guard still?”

“Yes,” Iron Blade replied, tapping a few buttons on the screen embedded in his right servo armour. “It won’t work if I get too far from them, but up close, no problem.”

“Unfortunately, we cannot change the distance they can reach.”

Starscream folded his servos behind his back, a light frown on his faceplate. “You two set up enough nets. I’m certain that one of them at least should yield results.”

“Which one do you think we’ll actually capture?” Iron Blade asked, wondering what his friends predicted. He had his own suspicions, but wanted to hear theirs.

“Blurr,” was all Shockwave said.

“I agree,” echoed Starscream thoughtfully. “Both of the brothers use similar tactics, darting in and out of cover when there’s opportunities. And to avoid friendly fire. However, Steeldust is much more erratic and slips in between mecha on the battlefield more willingly than Blurr. Blurr seems to prefer the easier maneuverability of less mecha on the outskirts. He sticks to that tactic more I believe we have observed.”

“That’s what I’m thinking,” Iron Blade remarked, glancing back towards the approaching Autobot convoy.

“The thing we need to be concerned about,” spoke Shockwave suddenly, “Is if one finds the net before they run into it and warns the other.”

“I don’t know if they care that much about each other,” Iron Blade said with a scoff, crossing his servos. He narrowed his optics as he spotted one very familiar mecha. Or one who he used to know very well.

Not so much anymore.

“We know how Autobots treat their own family.”

By this time, the rest of the Decepticons had groundbridged to Iron Blade, Shockwave, and Starscream’s position.

Across the valley from them were the Autobots, who had just arrived at the designated battlefield.

They stood almost exactly opposite of each other, out of range of most, if not all, weapons.

Optimus took a few steps forward from his ranks and bellowed across the battlefield.

“Megatron! I want you to choose three of your warriors to fight these three Cyberbots!”

The Cyberbots pushed forward through the crowd of Autobots until they were beside the prime.

Iron Blade stood shocked.

“What is it, Iron Blade?” Ironshadow asked lowly, stealing a glance at his son who stood next to him.

“Those are the weapons Whirr made, and ours isn’t ready yet,” the knight replied in a whisper.

Starscream had noticed too and glanced over to meet the younger mech’s optics, a frown on his faceplate.

Both were wondering if they should have went ahead and made their own as soon as they’d received the blueprints.

Although it wouldn’t have done them much good. Even if they had, it wouldn’t be ready yet.

Megatron spoke up. “If we do this, then neither side can interfere in the fight among the six warriors we choose?”

From the other side, Optimus yelled back, “That is correct! No interference from either side! When one side yields or loses, that ends the fight!”

“Are we actually going to do this?” asked Ironshadow. He sent the leader a look. “These are the weapons that our scientists told us about.”

Megatron looked at Iron Blade and Starscream in turn. “What do you think? Would it be better to have all of us fight, or just three?”

Iron Blade wasted no time in responding to the Decepticon leader, “I believe we should take Optimus up on his offer, this way we can study the skills of the Cyberbots so we can know how to counter them with one of our own, when we finish it.”

The second-in-command was slower to answer, thinking for several astrokliks before he spoke. “Iron Blade presents a good point. However, we do not know the skills of the Cyberbots, so we must be careful.”

Ironshadow nodded, frowning deeply as he added his opinion. “I agree with them, Megatron. Especially, with the latter part of what Starscream said. “

Megatron nodded, “Very well.” He then looked back at the prime in front of the army ahead of them.

“We will choose three warriors to fight your Cyberbots!”

Optimus Prime smiled wickedly, “Good choice. The winner gets a Cybertronian relic for their prize!”

“Megatron, a relic?” asked Shockwave, “If we lose, we will lose one of the relics.”

Megatron said, “I know, but if we win...”

“We get one of theirs,” interrupted Iron Blade, finishing the Decepticon leader’s sentence.

“Do they have any?” Ironshadow asked with a flick of his wings. He frowned. “Do we?”

“Well, Megatron. What say you?!” asked the Prime.

Megatron waited a few astrokliks before answering.

“We accept!”

“Excellent!” the Prime said with a wicked smile. “Send out your champions!”

“I will step forward,” Iron Blade said, already moving forward before he’d finished speaking.

His sire flinched, but made no move to stop him.

“Me too,” said Starscream.

“Very well, but we need one more to step forward.” said Megatron.

“I will if no one else is willing,” Ironshadow said quickly, tone serious. “However, in the event that this goes badly, I’d like to be able to fetch or assist the three that do go out if I can.”

“Then, stay here. I will be the third,” said Motormaster from close by as he pushed through to the front line.

The combiner and Armada leaders caught up with Iron Blade who had paused to wait for them. Then, the three stepped forward to challenge the Cyberbots.

Leaning closer to speak in the Decepticon leader’s audio, Ironshadow lowly muttered, “I don’t like this, my friend. I have a feeling that this may go badly.”

“It will be alright, Ironshadow,” Megatron replied. He then sobered further. “What else can we do? We risk only three instead of the whole army this way.”

“I know. But just be on guard. This isn’t like Optimus prime.”

“I know.”

On the other side of the valley, Optimus turned to Whirr who was beside him, “Send them out. Prove to me that they are worth my time.”

“Yes, my Lord,” Whirr said. He then turned to his creations. “Cyberbots, defeat the three Decepticons that have stepped forward. Do not kill them.”

“Consider it done,” said Aragon.

“We’ll end them for you, Optimus,” said Sixgun, deploying the swords attached to his forearms.

The three Cyberbots stepped forward to challenge the three Decepticons.

Cog stood opposite of Motormaster, Aragon stood opposite of Starscream, and Sixgun, in the middle with Cog on his right and Aragon on his left, was opposite of Iron Blade.

Cog spoke for the first time, and by no surprise was it a question, “Umm, who says go?”

Iron Blade deployed his face guard and visor. Igniting the sword in his hand, he spun it and yelled, “I do!” Then, he charged Sixgun.

Sixgun got ready for his smaller opponent to get closer. When he did, Sixgun sliced at him with his swords.

Iron Blade spun to dodge the attack. As he did this, he pulled the shield off his back and smashed the red and grey Cyberbot in the knee, sending him to the ground.

Meanwhile, he also slashed the back of Cog’s knee, knocking him down on all fours.

“Hey, that one was mine!” yelled Motormaster as he pulled the huge sword off his back.

Iron Blade thrusted his flaming sword into the huge navy-blue and black Cyberbot, sending him to his face.

“Ha! Beat that!” the white, black, and silver mech said.

Motormaster ran at Sixgun who tried to avoid the huge sword, but couldn’t move his right leg. He was sent flying in the air, and landed rolling until he was stopped by a huge boulder, which cracked three of his left ribs.

“Beat that, Iron Blade!” Motormaster yelled.

“Stop, bickering, my friends! We have things to do,” Starscream said as he shot Aragon with his arm blasters.

Aragon, with two holes in his chest, revealed to Starscream that he was mostly hollow inside.

Starscream frowned in puzzlement when he could see the black and red Cyberbot’s few organs.

Aragon drew his guns from his holsters on his hips and aimed them at Starscream. His two injuries already healed.

Starscream’s optics widened, astonished at how fast his opponent had healed.

Aragon rapid fired his blasters at the air commander, who transformed and took to the sky in jet form. He flew around until his nose was pointed right at Aragon. Starscream shot two missiles at the Cyberbots and transformed, landing in the middle of the scattered pieces of Aragon. He turned to face the other two Decepticon champions.

“Beat that,” he said with a smirk.

Optimus was furious. He slapped Whirr with the back of his hand, sending the scientist to the ground behind him.

“You idiot! Do you know what this means! You have wasted this battle! You will die!” As he spoke, he walked over to the red and white helicopter, then raising his right pede to crush Whirr.

The other Decepticons who’d been distracted from the fight by this, looked on in mostly non-caring manners.

“Wait!” the scientist pleaded.

The prime lowered his pede back to the ground beside his other one.

“The Cyberbots will use their magnets and serum to fix themselves,” Whirr hastily explained.

Optimus reached down and picked up Whirr by the throat. “They had better, or I’ll snap your neck.”

Suddenly, the hole in Cog’s back sealed and his knee was repaired. He stood to his pedes.

Motormaster was surprised. “What? How?”

Cog dove at Motormaster knocking him down, Cog on top of him.

Motormaster kicked him over his head, rolled over, and stood up. He pulled his huge sword off his back again and raised it to strike Cog. He then, thrusted it downwards, but it stopped in Cog’s hands.

The huge Cyberbot stood up slowly the end of Motormaster’s sword still in his grasp. With his immense strength he lifted the Stunticon leader in the air using the sword. He held his opponent straight up in the air, then with all his might, he flung the sword to the ground.

When Motormaster hit the ground, he let go of the sword.

Cog switched his hold on the weapon to the handle of it. He walked towards Motormaster and put the tip of the sword to his neck cables.

Iron Blade ran to help, but was tackled by Sixgun, who then pinned the knight, shoving his faceplate into the grass and dirt beneath them.

Sixgun looked as if he had just joined the fight. “Gotcha!” he said as he put his gun to the back of Iron Blade’s helm.

Starscream, meanwhile, looked around himself as the pieces of Aragon were coming together again.

Aragon reformed in front of the surprised Starscream.

“Hey pal,” Aragon said. Then, he pulled his servo back in a fist and pounded his opponent in the faceplate.

The seeker fell backwards.

Starscream tried to get to his feet, but was punched again in the faceplate by Aragon.

Aragon put his pede on Starscream’s chest and readied the missile in his pede. It was aimed right at Starscream’s spark.

Starscream looked at Aragon in fear of what he was about to do. But then, the look in his optics grew defiant, his faceplate turned from shock to determination.

He would die. But he’d die knowing he died protecting and serving with his fellow Decepticons.

“Well, Megatron, what do you think of the Cyberbots!?” the Prime asked from across the battlefield.

Megatron said nothing. Beside him, Ironshadow and Shockwave also said nothing, waiting for their leader’s command.

Optimus grinned wickedly, “Do you yield!?”

The Decepticon leader then spoke, “I yield! Let my mecha return to me!”

With that, Aragon removed his pede from off Starscream’s chest, then he used his jet boots to fly back to the Autobot lines.

Sixgun got of Iron Blade’s back by transforming into his jet form and flying away, reaching the other Autobot’s first.

Cog dropped Motormaster’s sword, transformed into his tank form, and joined the other two.

A groundbridge appeared behind the Autobots and they started to flood into it.

“I trust you will keep your word and bring me that relic, Megatron!” the prime yelled.

“Oh, you will get your relic!” yelled the Decepticon leader as the three defeated Decepticons came to stand behind him. He opened a comm to Soundwave.

“Soundwave, send us a groundbridge, and a relic for the Autobots.”

“Sure thing, boss.” Soundwave replied glumly, already having heard the battle’s result from one of the other officers.

“And you know which relic I mean?” asked Megatron.

“Oh yes, the prime will just love this one,” replied Soundwave brightly with a scheming grin.

Kliks later a groundbridge appeared beside Optimus, Soundwave stepped through it.

Optimus was now alone, waiting for his Cybertronian relic.

“Here you are, your lordship,” said Soundwave as he bowed mockingly with his outstretched servo with the relic in it.

The prime snatched it from Soundwave and looked at it. “This is no relic! It’s pieces of metal welded together that say ‘Cybertronian relic!’ Is this a joke!?”

“Yeah, that’s pretty much all it is,” replied Soundwave with a shrug, and with that he jumped back into the groundbridge and turned it off.

Astrokliks later another groundbridge appeared behind the Decepticons.

Soundwave’s head poked out, “Alright, show’s over let’s go!”

As the Decepticons left the battlefield, Optimus screamed across the valley. “You won’t get away with this! You hear me?!”

“Oh, we hear you, but we’re leaving!” Soundwave yelled back as the last few Decepticons went through the groundbridge. “Goodbye, Prime! Smell ya later!”

Optimus was left alone on the battlefield. Filled with rage, he crushed the piece of metal in his hand and stomped through his own groundbridge.

* * *

It turned out that neither of the speedster brothers had come to the battle. Though it turned out that they had even bigger worries than the pair.

Optimus Prime had three new faceplates among his ranks and they were definitely not friendly.

“Next time,” Starscream assured the other two as they limped towards the medbay. “We’ll try the nets again. They will work, we must be patient.”

Well, Shockwave didn’t limp as he was uninjured. But was still accompanying the other two on his way to the science lab.

“I find it strange neither were present,” the cyclops said. “It would be worth it to check in with the miners. But I agree. We will eventually catch them.”

_“And how many more die in the meantime,”_ Iron Blade wondered, though he didn’t speak his worry aloud.

Another thing that bothered him, was how many of the new “weapons” Optimus had.

Whirr had not told him that he’d made three.

Iron Blade was a little put off by that, but he figured Whirr had had his reasons. And that that was especially why he had urged him to take the blueprints and make their own.

Still.

The young mech frowned as he also recalled seeing Whirr on the battlefield. The scientist wasn’t called to battle often, the Autobot officers deeming him much more useful in his lab, but sometimes he was.

Apparently, he’d been there to witness the weapons’ first fight.

Iron Blade had seen him almost die at the hand of the false prime when it appeared that the Cyberbots were defeated.

It almost made him glad that they’d actually ended up defeating he and his two comrades. For Whirr’s sake anyways.

Otherwise, he wasn’t pleased with their defeat. At all.

Still.

Iron Blade hoped that the warlord was now satisfied and also, that Whirr’s presence also meant that no one had found him out. That made him relax a little.

He always felt a bit worried after he and the helicopter met again after a trade of information or supplies. Until he seen or heard from him that he was fine.

For some reason, this time the young mech had had a bad feeling about it that he couldn’t push away as easily. Maybe it was because the last time they’d met, for only an astroklik or two, the knight had thought he’d felt someone watching from the forest around them.

He’d looked and there was no one. No one except a spooked rabbit that ran away.

Obviously, the rabbit wouldn’t have gotten Whirr caught.

While Iron Blade had been lost in thought, Slipstream had caught up to them.

Shockwave glanced over his shoulder at the smaller knight as she began arguing with Starscream.

“You could have been killed!”

“Well, as second-in-command and air commander, it was my duty to volunteer.”

“I know. But why is it always about honour with you two,” Slipstream grumbled, casting a pointed look back at Iron Blade as she put a servo around her courted to help him along. “You’re both idiots.”

Iron Blade frowned at the femme. Starscream twitched a wing and smiled at her.

“Thank you, dearest.”

Iron Blade rolled his optics at them as Shockwave made his escape to the lab.

* * *

“MIRAGE!”

The head ops looked up from his datapad at the faint angry bellowing of his name. With a roll of his optics, he got to his pedes and left his office, closing and locking the door behind him.

Walking swiftly to the throne room, he rose an optic ridge at the two bodyguards that already had the door open for him. Moving several steps inward, Mirage dropped elegantly to one knee and bowed. He noted as he did, that Prowl was also in the room, likely been previously going over some matter with the warlord.

_“His presence all the better,”_ thought Mirage. “You called for me, my Lord?”

Optimus Prime sat in his throne, hands clenching the ends of the armrests as he scowled darkly down at the mech before him.

“Why were your mecha not all on the battlefield, Mirage?” he said with a growl. “Only Hound and Skyshadow were there.

“Not that they were needed.”

Mirage lifted his helm and rose to his pedes. “I have a worthy explanation if you wish to hear it, my liege?”

The warlord settled back in his throne, still scowling. “Proceed.”

Bowing at the waist quickly, Mirage did so.

“My Lord, I sent Agent Blurr to investigate an unknown energon signal that the mecha on monitor watch had observed. He has not returned yet, but I expect him to give me a report on his findings soon. And unfortunately, Goldbug is in need of rescue from a pit, along with two others. Seeing as we just returned not long ago, the rescue team has not had time to locate and return them yet.”

“Very well,” nodded the Prime, his faceplate lessening in its dark look. “Prowl did inform me that he sent the Cyberbots out looking for them.”

“As for Agent Steeldust,” Mirage continued, the corners of his mouth turning downwards as he narrowed his optics. “It seems that Magnus has taken him and placed him in the brig. I would have informed you sooner, had not the Cyberbots’ debut and the battle been of more importance.”

“WHAT?”

Mirage withheld his smirk, keeping his faceplate showing his displeasure instead. “I do not know the reasons for his punishment, but I had assumed, my Lord, that you deemed them worth keeping him there while we went to meet the Decepticons.”

“I did no such thing,” growled Optimus, slamming a fist on the arm of his throne. “And why did _Magnus_ put him there?”

“I am uncertain,” Mirage replied with disdain. “After all, Steeldust is under my direct command, not Magnus’ and therefore, I should have been at the very least alerted to his misbehaviour or misconduct.”

The ops paused and then continued. “And it seems like he did not inform or bring the issue to you either, my Lord. Which is of course, more at fault here.”

By this point, the warlord was nearly livid.

“MAGNUS!!!”

Prowl, who had been standing off to the warlord’s right in silence, met the optics of the shrewd head ops. The pair shared a small grin as the Prime again yelled for the lieutenant.

Mirage knew he’d just made the tactician’s day.

He and the current second-in-command were usually on fairly good terms. This was one of the reasons.

Both shared in their dislike of Ultra Magnus and knew they both had an ally against him.

The spy moved to the side of the room in preparation to give the floor to their shared enemy.

Shortly, Magnus stalked into the throne room and bowed before the Prime.

“You called, my Lord.”

“I hear that you put a certain someone in the brig earlier,” Optimus said evenly, leaning forward and steepling his digits together. “Someone not under your direct command.”

Mirage and Prowl watched from off to the side as the lieutenant tried to hide his surprise.

Obviously, he hadn’t figured he’d be caught for this.

Mirage found it entertaining that his underling had tricked Magnus in the first place, but the fact that he watched Magnus’ ego getting punched because of it was even more so.

“Steeldust was being disrespectful as usual,” Magnus said in explanation, raising himself to his full height. “And he had been eavesdropping on the officers’ meeting!”

Prowl flicked a doorwing and rose an optic ridge a fraction.

_“Apparently that information is new,”_ thought Mirage.

He’d known that Steeldust was there. He was almost surprised that the Praxian had missed him.

“Do not blame that turbofox for your own actions!” yelled the Prime. “You did not consult me on his punishment, or his direct commander!”

As Optimus Prime continued to yell at his lieutenant, the other two officers in the room shared a look.

This was the most entertaining and satisfying thing that had happened all week.

* * *

Goldbug, Cliffjumper, and Arcee silenced their bickering when they heard several sets of pedesteps approaching.

They met each other’s optics before each deploying a weapon as quietly as they could.

Presently, three unfamiliar faceplates looked down at them from the edges of the hole.

“Look,” said the biggest of the three, a hulking brute of a mech. “There they are.”

Seeing the Autobot insignias on the three mechs, Cliffjumper asked gruffly, “Who are you three?”

“We are the Cyberbots,” replied the average-sized middle one. “I’m Aragon, that’s Cog, and that’s Sixgun.”

Three sets of optics followed along where Aragon was pointing to as he introduced them.

“What’s a Cyberbot?” Goldbug asked irritatedly. “And why haven’t we seen you three before?”

“We’re Cyberbots,” said the smallest one, who was apparently Sixgun, cheekily sneered down at them. “And you haven’t seen us before because you’re stuck in this pit.”

“Tell us something we don’t know,” Arcee snapped as Sixgun laughed out loud.

“We were sent to come and find you after you missed the battle,” Aragon explained.

“Well, now that you’ve found us, help us out,” the femme demanded.

“Bossy,” grumbled Cog.

“EXCUSE ME??”

The smallest Cyberbot chuckled. “Loud too. So much volume from a tiny two-wheeler.”

“Are you going to help us out or just stand there?” growled Arcee, glaring daggers at them. “If not, I’ll have your helms.”

The trio looked at each other, then began to lower a rope that they’d brought.

Just as the last Autobot, Cliffjumper, was out of the pit, the Autobots spotted an approaching dust cloud.

“Here comes company,” said the horned Autobot, lifting a hand to shield his optics.

“It’s the Stunticons!” Goldbug exclaimed as the group got close enough to hear. And see.

Cog smashed his fists together. “Can we fight them?”

Aragon, seemingly the leader of the three, nodded. “I believe that is what Lord Prime and Whirr would want us to do.”

“Yes!” Sixgun said, already drawing a rifle from his backplates.

As the Stunticons neared within shooting range, they suddenly stopped and transformed, staring in dismay at the six Autobots.

“Aww, not these guys again!” said Offroad in dismay.

Motormaster frowned deeply as he met Cog’s visored gaze.

“I’m guessing that you didn’t all fall in, right?” Wildrider called, cupping his hands to his mouth.

“No, you idiot!” Arcee yelled back, blaster ready in hand.

Dead End visibly sagged in place, his helm tilting back. “Did any of you fall in?”

“Three of us.” Cliffjumper glanced at the pit, then at the Decepticons. “Wait, did you dig this?”

“Yeah. We did,” Drag Strip said, folding his servos over his chest. “To catch you, Autoscum.”

“Well, it didn’t work, did it?” challenged Goldbug angrily. “You’re all idiots!”

Motormaster tilted his helm and narrowed his optics. “But it did work. Three of you fell in.”

“Why don’t you come and see how you like it in there!”

“We’d rather not,” replied Offroad quickly. “I’ll save it for you, six.”

The Stunticons then stopped yelling and seemed to be conferring amongst themselves on what to do next.

The Autobots weren’t so patient.

“This isn’t fighting,” Cog said grouchily. “It’s just talking!”

Sixgun grinned darkly. “Then let’s go give them a fight!”

With that, the three Cyberbots charged.

“Well, I’m going home,” said Goldbug with a huff, turning and stalking away.

“Me too. Come on, Cliffjumper, let the new mechs get clobbered for all I care,” Arcee added sourly, brushing sand and dirt off as she followed the doorwinger.

Taking one last look over his shoulder, Cliffjumper followed them.

Cog had just picked up and thrown Motormaster several yards seemingly without effort.

“Somehow I doubt they’ll be the ones clobbered,” the horned Autobot muttered.

However, even he was too sick of being there to care about fighting the ‘Cons.

“Hey, whoever’s on monitor duty. You wanna send us a groundbridge?”

* * *

“Look what we found!”

Gears turned on his stool towards the triumphant Cog, suppressing a shiver at the mech’s tone.

The minibot’s optics widened a little when he noticed the three Cyberbots he’d just bridged back were dragging someone with them.

One of the Stunticons.

Reaching towards the lever on the console, Gears then shut down the bridge. As he did, he asked, “Where was he?”

“In the wrong place at the wrong time,” snickered Sixgun.

“Where should we take him to rough him up some more?” Cog asked, looking down at the already injured ‘Con.

“The training rooms?” Aragon supplied.

As the trio kept walking across the communications room, Gears suppressed another shiver. The Cyberbots were new, but he was already certain that he didn’t like them.

He almost pitied Offroad.

Sixgun, leading the way while Cog dragged their prize by the arm, paused at the exit when a smaller form stepped into his way.

“Well, look what the Cyberbots dragged in,” drawled the petite femme, glancing down at the Stunticon as she leaned against the doorway.

“It’s Offroad,” said Cog brightly. “He’s a Stunticon.”

“I know who he is,” Skyshadow said neutrally. She then narrowed her optics at the big mech who towered over them all. “What I don’t know is what you think you’re going to do with him.”

“Oh, just play with him a little, Sweetspark,” answered Sixgun with a grin.

Gears snapped his helm back to the computer screens, covering his mouth with a hand to stifle the snicker that almost escaped. The new guys didn’t know any better yet.

Skyshadow flashed the mech a dark smile, showing her sharp canine denta. “Really?”

She straightened and took a few steps forward, putting herself directly in front of Sixgun.

“Unfortunately, I cannot let you do that, Sixgun,” she said sweetly, folding her servos behind her back.

Sixgun frowned. “Let me?”

“And why’s that?” demanded Aragon, arching an optic ridge.

“Yeah!” Cog added loudly. “We caught him!”

The half-Vosian gave a low chuckle. “Sorry, boys. But rules are rules. Any Decepticon brought back here goes to interrogation. Maybe when that’s finished you can finish him off. But not now.”

Cog growled while the other two’s frowns just deepened.

“Where’s interrogation?” Aragon asked with a sigh.

“Aragon!” protested Cog. “We caught him!”

“It’s at the other end of the basement from Whirr’s lab,” said Skyshadow coolly. “Past the brig cells.”

She paused and then looked upwards in thought for an astroklik before continuing.

“You can put him in room number two. As far as I know, one hasn’t been cleaned from the last time I interrogated someone,” she said casually. She then looked down and met Offroad’s optics with a dark grin on her faceplate.

“And I’d rather start fresh.”

“What!” sputtered Sixgun with rage. “ _You’re_ going to interrogate him?”

“Yes,” replied Skyshadow, flicking her wings outwards. “Is that a problem? It is part of my job.”

Without waiting for any of them to answer, she spun on her heel and walked down the hall.

“If you don’t like it, take it up with lord Prime.”

Cog turned and punched the nearby wall, leaving a large fist sized hole in it. Sixgun glared at the retreating form and Aragon glared down at their prisoner.

Offroad just tried to lie still, hoping to not aggravate his captors or his injuries.

“I guess she knows the rules,” Aragon muttered. “We better do what she says.”

“Well, if I find out she’s lying after this...” replied Sixgun darkly.

Cog was now dragging the Decepticon in the direction the femme had gone.

Gears rose an optic ridge and said nothing.

He figured that wouldn’t go well.

Sure, the Cyberbots so far were some of Lord Prime’s new favourites.

But Skyshadow had been one of his favourites for longer. Like, five vorns or something?

Maybe longer.

She was, after all, his personal assassin.

The minibot wasn’t sure who would remain in favour if the Cyberbots caused trouble.

_“Probably not Whirr,”_ he thought.

* * *

Offroad was thrown onto a table in the interrogation room and handcuffed wrist and ankles to it.

After that, the Cyberbots left with a few more threats and dark looks, Cog slamming the door behind them so hard, he thought it might come out of its fastenings.

Then, he was alone.

Alone except for two mecha sitting in a brig cell down the hall.

With a wide-open doorway oddly enough.

But the Stunticon wasn’t about to question the strangeness of Autobots. _Especially_ not the Speed Demon and the hulking Insectibot out of all of them.

As he laid there, leaking and in pain, he heard the interrogation room’s outer door open and close. Momentarily, the inner door opened and the femme assassin walked into his view.

The Reaper, some Decepticons called her.

“Well, well, well,” Skyshadow purred as she approached his table. “Seems you got into some trouble didn’t you, Offroad.”

Offroad didn’t reply, only glaring up at her out of his good optic.

The other one was swollen almost shut from a particularly nasty punch he’d received.

“Not a talker, huh?” asked the black and purple with a hum. “Too bad. Talkers survive better.”

Offroad’s optics widened a fraction at her words.

“You know, it wouldn’t take much to get you out of here,” Skyshadow continued casually, walking around the table slowly.

_“Like a shark circles it’s prey in a boat,”_ Offroad thought.

“Just a few pieces of information. Wouldn’t hurt you to give them, would it?”

“I’ll never talk,” spat the Stunticon. “And you’ll never make me.”

A sharp smile formed on Skyshadow’s faceplate. “I wouldn’t count on that, Offroad.”

* * *

For some reason that Steeldust could not fathom, Bug was still sitting in his cell.

The Insectibot had remained almost motionless since he’d sat down, not even leaving when the call to battle had sounded its alarm. He’d merely looked out the door, tilted his helm, sniffed the air, and then went back to staring straight ahead.

It didn’t make logical sense to the speedster.

Both had watched with bored fascination when three unfamiliar Autobots dragged one of the younger Stunticons past the cell towards the interrogation room.

That had been odd too in Steeldust’s opinion.

From his understanding, where one Stunticon went, usually the other four followed. They hunted in a pack, except for if one took off alone chasing after _him_.

And that was usually Drag Strip since he was the only one near quick enough to catch him.

How these new freaks had caught Offroad, Steeldust didn’t know. Not that he really cared. It was merely something to puzzle over to keep his processor busy.

Not long after the three new faceplates had left the basement after dropping off the Decepticon, Skyshadow had walked by, raising an optic at the wide open and broken door.

Steeldust had flicked a doorwing towards Bug and shrugged.

So far since then, there had been silence from the interrogation rooms.

_“That means she’s so far playing good cop or trying to persuade him with words, not knives,”_ Steeldust thought boredly.

He also wondered who the new guys were. He hadn’t heard that anyone had landed on Earth. But then, not every bit of news reached him before he found it out for himself. And he assumed he’d meet the trio at some point.

Mirage then made an appearance in the doorway.

The head ops looked around, blinked several times, and then spoke.

“You may come out now. I suggest you behave yourself.”

Steeldust stood with a stretch and grinned at his superior. “I’ll try.”

The purple and grey spy rolled his optics and carried on his way, heading towards interrogation. “Please inform Bulkhead that the door needs repairs.”

“Uhh... Sure.” The red and black spy glanced around at what was left of the door and grimaced. Then, he glanced up at Bug, who’d also risen to his pedes.

“Maybe you should be the one to tell him.”

Bug simply tilted his helm and then lumbered away, heading off to who knew where.

Steeldust also left, slipping into the nearest hidden passage and hurrying towards where he knew the Wreckers could often be found.

He was uncertain where a certain red and black angry twin was, and he wasn’t currently keen to find him so quickly after their earlier confrontation.

Unfortunate as it was, Steeldust had no wish to be part of Sunstreaker’s little investigation anymore.

_Maybe_ , he’d do some of his own digging. Maybe.

But that would be it.

And it would be for Sides’ sake, no favour to his idiotic brother.

* * *

“Have you received any results?” came a voice over the room’s speakers.

Skyshadow paused from speaking and glanced towards the mirrored glass window.

“Not yet,” she replied, turning back to Offroad. “But he’ll change his mind soon enough.”

Offroad glared up at her. He didn’t know what tricks the half-Vosian thought she had up her sleeve, but it wouldn’t work on him.

Neither would anything the mech on the other side of the glass would do would work either.

“I’ll never talk!” snarled the Stunticon.

“How original,” Mirage said dryly from his observation spot. “Try and be more creative, please. At the very least, you could be entertaining us while you waste our time.”

Skyshadow snickered lightly. “He has a point though. Haven’t you Decepticons ever dreamed up what you’d say if you were ever captured? Or did you and these lame, overused one-liners are all you got?”

“Maybe I don’t want to play this game,” muttered Offroad.

“Oh, you think this is a game, do you?” questioned Skyshadow smoothly, beginning to circle him again. “A little game of twenty questions?”

Offroad watched her warily, sensing she was taking a different turn in the interrogation now.

Still, there was no weapon in her hand.

“Well, Decepticon, you’d be incorrect. However, if you want to play a game, how about this.”

The femme then stopped and leaned over his helm, her faceplate appearing in his vision upside down. Her optics narrowed as she continued darkly.

“We play a game of tell us what we want to know, our we call your beloved brothers and they tell us.”

“They’ll never tell you either!” Offroad exclaimed defiantly, glaring into her optics. “We’d all die before we betrayed the Decepticons!”

Skyshadow gave his proud statements a little laugh and a smirk that Offroad didn’t like.

“Really? How fitting,” she purred. “Because if they don’t tell us, they hear you die.”

Though he expected he would not make it back home online, her words still chilled Offroad to the core.

“You wouldn’t want that, would you? You’d die heroically, sure. But what about your brothers? You’d subject them to that horror?”

Offroad kept his mouth closed.

“I see,” the femme said. She drew back and walked towards the door. Once she reached it, she paused and turned back to look at him.

“We’ll let you choose. Either tell us what we asked, or we’ll get in touch with Motormaster. If he doesn’t tell us, then he’ll listen to you die, knowing he had a hand in your death. Choose carefully, Offroad. Choose whether you want him to bear that guilt.”

As the door closed behind her, Offroad shuttered his optics.

He didn’t want Motormaster to feel his death was on his helm. Or any of his brothers to.

But he couldn’t tell the Autobots what they wanted to know, to betray the Decepticons.

He knew Motormaster wouldn’t want to either, but he wasn’t sure what his older brother would choose.

He feared his brothers might choose betrayal over his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Disclaimer: We do not own Transformers, though that would be neat. Bug, the Cyberbots, Iron Blade, and Whirr belong to Blaster 2.0. Skyshadow and Steeldust belong to me, and we share Ironshadow.
> 
> Thanks again to Blaster 2.0 for his contributions!
> 
> See you next time.


End file.
